


Forget Me (Not)

by dattumblrgal



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Domestic, Established Relationship, Family Feels, M/M, Marriage, Memory Loss, Parenthood, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 55,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dattumblrgal/pseuds/dattumblrgal
Summary: Upon closer examination, Harry notices a paler ring of skin on his finger, as if he had a ring sitting there at all times, preventing the sun from tanning that skin. When he moves his eyes along his arm, he sees new tattoos that he doesn't remember getting, doesn't remember having. Harry's stomach drops down into the pits of hell when he sees two names tattooed in cursive on his left arm. One says Sadie and the other one Noah.OR- Harry wakes up in a hospital, thinking his mates pulled a prank on him after his accident when Zayn says they're married with two children. He doesn't believe it, not until his own body tells him differently and a little girl comes running into the room, wanting to hug her daddy. And suddenly Harry isn't just about to graduate from uni in 2015, he's married with two kids in 2022.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 20
Kudos: 164





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay so those who are here from tumblr, THIS is that labour of pain and love lmao, enjoy!!

"I'm going to take care of you."

It's a strange voice. Like as if a child was speaking. Is Harry dreaming? He can't seem to open his eyes. Perhaps this is a lucid dream? He read an article about it the other day, that must've influenced his brain in some way.

"I know you will, honey, but we need to let daddy rest, yeah? Go to granny and she'll give you a snack."

This voice is definitely adult. But what the fuck is that supposed to mean? The tone of the voice is vaguely familiar but Harry can't place it. If only he could wake up. He feels fuzzy, like his entire body was made out of TV static. He tries to open his eyes. It's not hard, he's done it a billion times before.

"Okay, dad. But what if daddy wakes up when I'm gone?"

The child again. Harry slowly feels more awake. God, he hopes he's not actually talking in his sleep. That'd be embarrassing.

"Don't worry about that, babe. I'll come and get you if he does, yeah? Now be a good girl and go say hi to your gran."

This was the somewhat familiar voice once more. Who does it remind him of?

Okay, _fuck_ lucid dreaming. Harry's not a fan at all. Why do people want these? It's so strange. He needs to wake up, seriously.

But it's so hard. Somehow, Harry's eyelids feel like they're made out of burn-out stars and weigh more than half of the explored universe. He tries and tries and tries to no avail. His body almost feels detached from him. He thinks he moved a few fingers. Hopefully.

"Haz?"

Lucid dreams, go to hell. Will there be a demon at the foot of his bed when he opens his eyes?

Harry feels superhuman when his eyelids finally cooperate and begin to rise up, letting light onto his sensitive eyes. Everything's too fucking bright. He must've forgotten to draw the curtains at night. When his eyes adjust, Harry finally looks out again and holy fucking shit.

This is not his bedroom. This is a hospital.

"Am I-" Harry coughs, his throat dry as a bloody desert. "Am I sleeping?"

"Haz?" there's the familiar voice again. Harry tries to move his head to where the voice is coming from but the second he does, his entire body breaks out in pain. He whimpers, closing his eyes and the voice speaks again, "Babe, what's wrong? What hurts? I'm gonna call the doctor, okay? You're alright, babe, just open your eyes. Talk to me, please."

Harry moves through the pain and opens his eyes again, this time the motion much easier. And when he looks out into the room again, he sees a dark-haired man sitting in a chair by Harry's bed. He's holding his hand and wait, Harry knows him. He's pretty sure he does.

"Where's my mum?" Harry asks, his voice weak. His head is starting to throb with the mother of all headaches.

"She's on her way," the man replies. His name still eludes Harry. "She was in Greece with her girlfriends and she couldn't get a flight back yesterday. But she should be here in a couple of hours."

Harry groans softly as a particularly nasty bound of pain hits him. "Wait," he breathes out. "You're Zayn, right? Niall's mate?"

Zayn's entire face drops. "Technically. Wait, what day do you think it is today?"

"Um," Harry thinks, rubbing his temple mindlessly. "Friday?"

"I mean year," Zayn clarifies, the grave expression still on his face.

"Fucking hell," Harry sighs. "May 2015? The... 29th? I submitted my thesis on Monday and that was the 25th."

"God," Zayn sighs and leans back in the flimsy plastic chair. He covers his face with his hands. Harry frowns at him, "What's going on? Have I been in a coma for a while? Because that would've bloody sucked. Have I missed graduation?"

"Daddy!" the same little voice from when Harry thought he was dreaming screams and before he can ever properly look at the child, Harry has a little girl catapulting herself onto his bed. He can't do much as he's in utter shock, the girl clinging to him and going on about something along the lines of: "You're finally awake daddy!" and Harry can't breathe.

"Sadie, please leave daddy alone," Zayn says as he lifts the little girl off from Harry's bed. She trashes for a bit before he sits her on his hip, their heads close together as he talks to her, "Daddy isn't feeling well, baby. You need to be a big girl for him and be with granny until daddy's better. Can you do that for daddy, please?"

The girl, Sadie, apparently, looks up at Zayn with her huge green eyes, a pout on her lips before she nods and asks to be put down on the floor. Zayn complies after kissing her forehead and Sadie leaves again, but not before taking one final look behind at the door.

Harry breathes in deeply as if he had just come out from being underwater for a century. "What the fuck is going on?" he asks, his heart drumming up a marching band in his chest. "Why does that child think I'm her father?"

"Harry," Zayn says quietly, sitting on the side of Harry's bed. "You must have retrograde amnesia. The doctors said it was a possibility after they did a scan. You were hit quite badly in the head. Someone should be coming in a moment, I've no clue what's taking so long. They'll explain everything but just to give you an idea, you were in a pretty serious car accident. It's literally a miracle you have no broken bones. You've loads of bruises, quite a few cuts from the glass, some had to be stitched up. And obviously a really bad concussion. That little girl who was just here is Sadie and you _are_ her father. She also has a little brother called Noah. And I'm not Niall's mate, I'm your husband. "

Harry laughs. That's his immediate reaction to this. Because there's no fucking way. No, this can't be right. He could never forget his _two children_. That's impossible. His brain could've been scrambled egg but Harry knows if he actually had kids, he wouldn't forget them no matter what.

"Why are you laughing?" Zayn frowns. "This isn't funny, Harry."

"Oh, no," Harry shakes his head. "This is _hilarious._ So is the prank over now? Where's Niall with a camera or something? C'mon, I don't like this. Was I really in an accident? And then you lads decided to trick me?"

Zayn looks mortified. "Why would I _ever_ joke about you forgetting our family? What the fuck, Harry?"

"Whatever," Harry rolls his eyes. His head spins right after he does that. "Where's Xander?"

Zayn's eyebrows shoot up on his forehead. "Xander?"

"Yes," Harry nods softly, mindful of his sore head after the unpleasant reminder. "My boyfriend, Xander. Where is he?"

Now Zayn's the one to chuckle but there isn't an ounce of humour in it. "Xander moved back to Florida in June 2015. You haven't talked to him since."

Harry's breath catches in his throat. "Xander would never leave me."

"He sure fucking did," Zayn replies calmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Look at your left ring finger, please."

Harry nearly scoffs but he does it nevertheless. Upon lifting his left arm he sees an IV stuck into him, as well as several large plasters and one bandage. There are bruises littered around his skin so fine, he obviously did get into an accident. When he looks at his ring finger, he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary, except for the fact that all his nails are painted a pale orange colour but Lou sometimes painted his nails when she was bored so it's nothing too crazy.

And then he sees it, on the inside of his fingers. A tattoo, one that obviously isn't new given that ink on fingers deteriorates faster than anywhere else. It's simple - _Z . III MMXVI -_ but it says more than enough. Why else would he have Zayn's initial along with the date of March 2016 tattooed on his ring finger?

Upon closer examination, Harry notices a paler ring of skin on his finger, as if he had a ring sitting there at all times, preventing the sun from tanning that skin. When he moves his eyes along his arm, he sees new tattoos that he doesn't remember getting, doesn't remember having. Harry's stomach drops down into the pits of hell when he sees two names tattooed in cursive on his left arm. One says _Sadie_ and the other one _Noah_.

Harry feels short of breath, with tears prickling his eyes because _he can't fucking remember any of this_ when presumably his doctor comes in. It's a fairly young, tall blonde woman, who looks a little bit like she ran there.

"God, I'm so sorry for coming so late," she breathes out as she pulls out Harry's file from the clipboard at the foot of Harry's bed. "They brought it an old lady who fell and I had to examine her first so she could be taken to get a scan. Anyway, it's good to see you awake, Harry," she speaks casually, almost as if they were friends, all without lifting her eyes from the file. "Your husband was worried sick about you. So were your kids, sweet little things. How are you feeling?"

Harry blinks at her a few times. "I can't remember the last... however many years of my life so that's fun."

"Oh no," the doctor's shoulders drop. She looks over at Zayn, "I'm so sorry, I was hoping he wouldn't end up with amnesia but with the concussion he had..." she shakes her head quickly and shifts her attention back to Harry. "What is the last thing you remember?"

"I, uh," Harry takes in a deep breath. "I thought it was the week when I had submitted my thesis. May 2015. The last thing I can remember is... I was supposed to have lunch with my boyfriend Xander. Ex-boyfriend, I guess."

Zayn's looking down at the floor. Harry can't imagine what must be going through his head. It's easier to try and guess than to sort out his own feelings because as far as Harry's concerned, he knows Zayn only as Niall's outrageously attractive friend who always laughed at Harry's stupid jokes and sometimes hung out in the library with him, not as his husband and someone he has two kids with. Shit, Harry has _kids._ He has actual children. Yet he doesn't know a single thing about this life that simply dissipated from his memory and consciousness.

Harry just wants his mum to be here. And Xander but that's impossible it seems since they haven't talked in... whatever years.

"Wait, what year is it now?" Harry asks finally.

"It's 2022," the doctor replies. "July 20th 2022."

Fuck.

xxx

Harry slept and slept and slept for hours after the doctor had left. When he woke up, his mum was there already and Zayn was gone. Harry felt panicked when he remembered what had happened earlier and dread overcame him, along with the biting need to apologise. It's not his fault he had forgotten literally seven years of his life but he can't go back to this life he has, apparently. Not right now anyway. And he does apologise when Zayn comes back a few hours later, rather frantically because, in his mind, he's 21, just finishing uni and dating Xander but in reality, he has a husband and two children, who must miss him but it's fucking hard because Harry isn't their daddy. Technically, yes, he is but at the same time, he isn't. He forgot Noah's name until he had to sneakily look at his tattoo and remind himself _the name of his child_.

He's discharged the next morning and goes to stay with his mum. Zayn brought him his laptop from their house (fucking hell, they _have a house_ ), duly telling that his password is _Sadie29110617Noah,_ Sadie and Noah's birthdates, Noah's with the month before the day. Because Harry never would've figured it out. Well, maybe he would've after hours and hours. He wouldn't think about trying the birthdays of some kids that are actually his. He would've tried his and Xander's anniversary or his mum's birthday or the name of his first cat (which wasn't actually just Dusty, a simple password, but Lord Dustington III).

Harry feels like he's stuck in a sci-fi film from the '60s. Staying at his mum's house makes this whole situation even worse because he finds out Robin passed away a couple of years ago and there are two new cats who Harry can't tell apart. It's akin to how watching _The Incredible Shrinking Man_ felt. Harry sort of expects himself to perish like the man from the film did, only he's not getting smaller but forgetting more and more and more until his consciousness leaves completely and his corporeal form disintegrates into dust particles.

The first thing he does once he's back in his old room, which is now lacking all the posters and whatnot, as it had been slightly converted into a guest room, just still with his old furniture and most of his things still there, is take off his clothes and look at himself in the mirror. Apart from the nail polish, a very striking change is his hair. Harry remembers having long hair that went down to his shoulders in curls. Now his hair barely reaches his ears and is only vaguely wavy. There are new tattoos, apart from the one with Zayn's initial and the kids' names. And surprisingly, he's fitter than he remembers being. His arms are leaner, his stomach more defined and frankly, his arse and thighs look amazing. Harry hopes he has a trainer in a gym somewhere because currently, he has no clue how to maintain this figure. There is a long, thin scar on the side of his right wrist and when he asks his mum where he got it, she says it was from when he was baking a cake for Sadie's first birthday and he hit his wrist against the burning hot rack inside the oven.

Niall comes over the first day he's at his mum's. He tries to hide his distress behind laughter, as usual, so at least that is still the same. Even if he has brown hair now, it's still the same Niall Harry remembers from a time that is now far, far in the past to everyone but him. Niall jokes about the whole thing in between poorly disguised questions of concern and Harry almost forgets about everything for a while.

"Hit your old knob really good, didn't ya," Niall laughs over tea in the sitting room. "But you don't like, have some _serious_ brain damage or whatnot, right?"

"No," Harry shakes his head with a wistful smile. "I'm technically healthy. Just lost my memories. Lots of them it seems."

"Oh, Haz," Niall sighs, his shoulders dropping. "I'm so sorry this happened. It's mad. I don't know how you're sitting here, talking to me. I would've just curled up in me bed and cried like a baby."

Harry breathes in deeply. He doesn't dare to look Niall in the eye. "In my head, I'm still 21. I don't-" Harry looks up to Niall's worried gaze. "I know that there are two little kids who miss me, miss their father but I don't see myself as that person. I don't think I am that person. As horrible as it sounds, I don't miss them because yesterday, I could barely remember their names. Three days ago, they were my kids and they were probably on my mind 24/7 but today, I think in the same way I did when I was 21 and they weren't even alive back then. Like, today, when I got back, I almost went and tried to text Xander? Because what I remember last is that I was dating him. I wasn't married. I didn't have children. How much has changed since then? How am I supposed to catch up with it all?"

Niall sighs, rubbing his palms together, his eyes turned down to the floor. He looks up at Harry after a moment, gently shaking his head. "I guess you have to, somehow. We will all help you. Do you know if your memory's coming back?"

"I hope so," Harry says quietly. "Dr Carrey said it should come back. It might take a few days. It might take weeks. And then there's the option that I'll never fully get all those memories back."

"Fuck," Niall curses, huffing out a breath. "You'll get them back, Haz. Don't worry."

Harry just nods silently. His mind is like a beehive, constantly. He shouldn't stimulate himself too much to let himself heal but it's impossible. How can he relax and _not think_ when there are seven years of his life missing?

"I dropped by at your house before I came here."

Harry looks up at Niall with a frown. He _is_ at his house. Then it clicks. Niall doesn't mean his mum's house, he means the house he and Zayn have. The house Harry has no memory of.

"Yeah?" is all Harry can reply to it.

"Don't view this as... blackmail or somethin'" Niall says carefully. "But I really do fucking hope your memory comes back soon for the sake of everyone involved. Zayn's acting all aloof and shite but I've known him far too long not to see through that. The kids miss you too. You should at least call them. Take a few days if you need to but... even if you don't remember, Haz, they're your family."

"I know," Harry says, his voice barely above a whisper. He doesn't really know. He has no fucking clue what to do next. He doesn't know how to feel.

"I've been here for all of it Haz," Niall says delicately, choosing words carefully. "I saw how you and Zayn fell madly in love and then got married not even a year later like the psychos you two were back then. Still are sometimes. I was there when both Sadie and Noah came into your lives. I'm actually Sadie's godfather. Had to fight Jeff for it but I won in the end, obviously. Every other weekend we have lunch together either at your place or mine. You're my best mate, Haz, but so is Zayn and I can't sit here and lie to you. I can't. I'm here for you, 100% but I will also be completely honest with you, even if you don't want to hear it."

Harry's throat is choked up. He's never seen Niall like this. "Thank you," Harry gets out quickly. "Um, are you married?"

Niall chuckles pitifully. "Was engaged last year. She broke it off a few months back. It didn't work out."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry says automatically. "Erin was great."

Niall's eyes widen. "Oh my god," he breathes out. "Oh my god!"

"What?" Harry frowns at him before it finally clicks. "Oh god! I remembered her name!"

"You fucking did!" Niall laughs, shaking his head. "Out of all the bloody things."

Well, it was literally out of all the bloody things because Harry didn't remember a single other thing that day. But the simple mention of Niall's ex-fianceé prompted the memory to come back, fuzzy and incomplete but still there. So Harry decided to go sleuthing on his own life.

The passcode on Harry's phone changed as well. It's 190316. It's his and Zayn's wedding date (fucking _wedding_ date) and of course, Harry has trouble remembering it. Thankfully, his fingerprint hasn't changed and he can use TouchID just fine. And the phone is unrecognizable. His lockscreen is a photo of Sadie and Noah, not a funny photo of one of his mum's cats. That's the first time he even sees Noah, on a fucking lockscreen of all places. But there's not a bit of recognition. He sees the photo of the two smiling children and there's nothing in Harry's head. When he sees Sadie, he can recall only the shock of her calling him daddy in the hospital and the hushed conversation she had with Zayn afterwards.

He lays in his old bed as he slowly scrolls through the images of a life he can't remember living. Photo by photo, not just scrolling through the photostream, it's painfully slow and Harry feels like oxygen avoids him at all times. The latest photo on his phone is a screenshot of a recipe for buckwheat pancakes, which is apparently the type of food he makes now. Then it's another screenshot, this one of a schedule for events for the end of Sadie's daily summer camp in August. The third photo hits Harry like a dagger in his throat. It's a photo of Sadie and Noah in a sandbox, building a sandcastle. The address stamp says 'Home'. Harry swallows and thumbs onto the next photo. It is actually a short video, not a photo, of Zayn tossing Noah up into the air as he squeals in glee. The video ends with Zayn looking at the camera with a wide smile, Noah in a football hold still giggling, and he speaks to a Harry that is now forgotten in 2015/2022 Harry's mind. 'You filming again, babe?' he asks and the Harry with his memory replies 'Course I am. You're really fit and our baby is adorable. How can I not?'. Then the video's over.

Harry locks his phone and throws it somewhere onto the carpeted floor. It's his voice. It's his husband and his child yet he doesn't really know them. The last actual memory of Zayn Harry can remember is from earlier in May, just before Harry finished his thesis. They ran into each other in the library on campus. Harry was there just for a moment to return two books before going on a date with Xander. Zayn was polishing up his referencing on his own thesis. They talked for a few minutes, Harry asked him to come to a pub quiz that weekend, Zayn said maybe, if he's done with referencing by then, they said goodbye and that was it.

How in the hell did they end up getting married and having two children together?

xxx

The morning is horrible. Harry wakes up and in those fragile moments before being awake and still asleep, he forgets about what has been going on these past few days. Then when he's fully conscious, he realizes he had a slightly inappropriate dream about Xander. Harry then finds his phone on the ground and when he sees the lockscreen, he's hit by a wave of unimaginable guilt. Right, he's on a mission. Try to remember your fucking life.

He calls Jeff, who is conveniently in LA right now since he splits his time between LA and London and who Harry thankfully remembers and is still friends with. What was pretty rough was finding out just how many people he isn't close to anymore. He barely talks to Lou these days, even though he's Lux's godfather. But at least she somehow found out and sent him a text with well-wishes. He actually doesn't talk to Liam and Louis. Apparently, Niall said, they just drifted apart after uni. There wasn't a fight or anything, with either of them. Two of his friends committed suicide.

"Did you take your pills?" Anne asks Harry in the kitchen when she notices him rubbing his temples one too many time as he stares at his laptop.

"I did," Harry says. "This is just a mess. There's so much."

"I know, love," she says, standing behind his chair, her hand in his hair like when he was a kid frustrated with homework. "Can I help you with anything?"

Harry frowns at the screen as he logs into Facebook thanks to keychain and the saved passwords. "Where's Gemma, actually? She sent me one text and that's it."

"Oh, she's on a business trip to Singapore. I phoned her last night and she said she'll come back as soon as she can," Anne replies. "Any other mysteries to decipher?"

"About a million," Harry sighs, scrolling through random messages. He's not in the mood to read them all and find out how even more of his friendships have changed. "I don't use Facebook much, do I?"

"No, you don't," Anne chuckles lightheartedly. "You're on Instagram. Twitter too sometimes. I am too, actually. You got me hooked on it."

"That's sweet," Harry tries to smile. "I don't know where to start with this." He's on his profile now, the last post being from Noah's second birthday party in June 2022. So last month. It's a photo of him and Zayn holding Noah up, blowing out the candles with him on a Paddington-themed cake, with a simple caption, _Our baby boy is two today!_ , along with an emoji with a party hat. Harry minimizes the screen.

"I don't think I can do this," Harry chokes out. Anne sits down in the chair next to him, grabbing his hand. "I tried last night. To go through my phone. I couldn't. I saw three photos and one video. I just- it made no sense, it hurt, I couldn't recognise any of it. But when I see these kids, I can feel this... hole opening up in my chest like I was falling down through it to an abyss. My heart just shrivels up and doesn't let me do anything."

"They're your children, Harry," Anne smiles sadly. "You love them, even if you can't remember them right now. It won't change, love."

Harry can feel tears trying to break out. "What if I never remember them? What if I can't do this? They're gonna be missing a parent completely but I'm not dead but in this situation, I'm as good as dead because I'm no use to them. I can go back to my old life, maybe. But Sadie and Noah will always know that I'm somewhere out there but I just can't be their dad anymore. What if I really can't go back? To either? Because everyone has changed. I'm not with Xander anymore, I'm not friends with loads of people anymore. Those friends that have stayed have changed a lot. What am I supposed to do, mum?"

"Just try, honey," Anne shakes her head a little, grabbing both of Harry's hands in hers. Harry has salty tears sliding down his cheeks. "Give it time. Even just feeling what you feel when you see Sadie and Noah is a great step forward because somewhere deep down, you still know they're your kids and you love them."

Harry breathes in shakily. "What about Zayn? What if I never remember anything from our marriage? He would be living with a stranger just because of our children? If I don't get my memory back, the man he married is gone forever. Because right now, I'm not that man."

Anne sighs. "Sweetheart, you love him just as much as you love Sadie and Noah. That can't be gone completely if you still love Noah and Sadie. But if the worst were to happen, you two don't necessarily have to stay together."

"So I'd divorce him just because I don't remember him," Harry chuckles bitterly. "That's grand. God, why did this have to happen to me?" he fully breaks down then, leaning over and dropping his head on Anne's shoulder.

"I don't know, baby," Anne says soothingly as she rubs his back. "It'll be fine soon. It has to be."

xxx

Harry can't sleep that night. He's tossing and turning as much as his injuries allow him. Restlessness is itching at his skin. His whole life is neatly packaged inside his phone and laptop, ready to be viewed but Harry's scared. He's simply scared. He doesn't know if he can handle being slapped in the face with the truth, with this life where he is a father and a husband when he has no fucking clue how to be either. He's scared that he won't remember, ever, and this ghost of the life he's had will follow him forever.

Naturally, Harry does something stupid next. He calls Xander.

When the phone starts ringing, Harry's surprised Xander still has the same number. He's also surprised he still even has Xander's number in his phone.

" _Hello?"_

Oh, shit, he picked up. "Um, Xander? Hi, it's Harry."

_"Harry? As in Styles?"_

"Well, apparently I have a different last name now but yes," Harry chuckles nervously. He's been told they haven't spoken in years but it feels like it's been just a few days.

 _"Apparently?"_ Xander scoffs. _"I know you're married, Harry. Why are you calling me?"_

"This is quite a funny situation," Harry chuckles again. He tries to force himself to remember that he's not speaking to his boyfriend right now but instead a stranger, effectively. "I was in an accident a few days back and I, uh, I've got retrograde amnesia and um, I woke up thinking we were still together. Funny, right? Also fucking horrible."

 _"Okay, well, I can assure you that we are not together anymore,"_ Xander says simply. _"As far as I know, you have a really hot husband and two small kids so you have no business calling me."_

"I know," Harry says quickly, fearing Xander might hang up. "But I'm trying to, you know, get my memories back. And I think it helps if I get the information I need from the people directly connected with the event I'm trying to remember. I really have just one question for you."

_"Okay, go ahead."_

Harry breathes in. "How did we break up?"

Xander laughs a little. " _What is the last thing you remember?"_

"Um, it was the week when I submitted my thesis and I remember just being out and I knew I had a lunch date with you," Harry replies.

 _"Oh, okay, this is easy then,"_ Xander says. " _We broke up that day. We had lunch at Lettuce and Slugs and we broke up. Well, I broke up with you."_

Harry's mouth drops open. His head is a fucking mess. "Wait, were you wearing my shirt? The green one with the leaves pattern?"

 _"That was yours?"_ Xander asks distractedly. " _I guess, I don't know. But I remember it was just as you were finishing up at school. And it was a lunch."_

"Oh my god," Harry whines a little. "You had a fucking hickey on your neck! That wasn't from me because we hadn't fucked in two weeks because I was too busy finishing up my thesis."

 _"Yeah, I was sleeping with Jenny,"_ Xander snickers. " _You noticed and yelled at me. Like a few moments, after I said I'm breaking up with you, you noticed the hickey. You yelled at me like a mad man and threw your drink into my face."_

"You fucking deserved it!" Harry yells while still trying to whisper. "Thanks for still being the same arsehole you were back then!" Harry hangs up before Xander gets another word in.

He feels sick, actually sick because he _remembers._ He remembers coming there, in good spirits after he got off a call with his mum, wanting to see Xander because he had been swamped with work and now finally he had time to be with his boyfriend. Only for that fucking hurricane to come in and ruin everything.

They didn't even have their food yet. Xander was too impatient to break up with Harry that they didn't even have lunch after all. And Harry remembers it too fucking well. The feeling of his stomach dropping when he saw the hickey, the rush of anger before he threw his pomegranate juice into Xander's face, rushing out of the restaurant and crying on the tube back to his flat.

Harry feels like his lungs are collapsing on him as memories come rushing in. Gemma coming to his flat and feeding him ice cream as he mourned his breakup. Going out drinking with the lads and puking outside a club. The dull days afterwards.

He knows what he has to do now. Harry takes his phone, the one with the painful lockscreen, and finds photos from May and June 2015 in the gallery. Thank god or whoever for iCloud. This has to help him. There's nothing better to help him right now.

Only the photos from the time don't tell him much. A drunken selfie with Niall. Liam shirtless in a club with a cigar between his lips. A photo of his mum's cats. Screenshots of suits that Harry now recognizes as those he was considering wearing for his graduation. There's nothing special, nothing that sparks up his memory again like that. With some photos, Harry can remember a new thing or two. He definitely remembers now how he helped Niall dye his hair to look like the Irish flag after he had lost a bet.

Then in July, there's one photo that makes Harry's breath catch in his throat. It's a simple one, just a picture of the sunrise through a window, taken from a bed. And Harry knows that room. It isn't his but he knows it because he spent almost the entire summer of 2016 there.

It's Zayn's room in the flat he was sharing with Niall and Liam. Harry had never been inside before that night in July when he and Zayn slept together for the first time.

Harry closes his eyes forcefully, placing his phone screen down on his chest. Suddenly it's so vivid. The lights of the club. The bottle of tequila. Zayn's lips on his neck. Them stumbling into the flat after 3 AM and fucking until the sun came up. But that's it. He knows he's been in that room many times but not much else. And their first night together. That one's blurry still but it's probably due to Harry's blood alcohol level that night and not his retrograde amnesia.

That's enough for one night, Harry thinks. Before his past, present and future drive him insane.

xxx

Harry's first thought after waking up is "Shit, I'm late for work". He isn't. He's on leave, obviously, since he doesn't quite remember how to do his job. He's fine with remembering what he learned in his bachelor's degree but not a thing from his masters or from the time he's been practising.

One good moment from this whole retrograde amnesia saga was that Harry's job is what he wanted all along. He's a therapist, he got his masters and apparently, he'd been planning to get his PhD once Sadie and Noah were older. That's great news but what's fucked up is that it shouldn't be news at all. Today, Harry should've woken up, gotten himself and his kids ready and driven to work, like any other day. But instead, he doesn't even remember where he works, what his children usually have for breakfast and most crucially, Harry doesn't remember the name of a single patient, let alone what their problems actually are.

But the night before gave Harry a lot of insight. He remembers a tiny bit more now. He can clearly understand why he and Xander aren't together anymore, which is a relief. It's almost as if he's disgusted by thinking in present time that he's in love with Xander. But Harry also knows how he and his current husband started their relationship. While not being too clear, Harry can recall the attraction, the wild thing that rose up between them seemingly out of nowhere. He can't remember falling in love with Zayn but he can remember really wanting to sleep with him. Well... it's a start, isn't it?

For this day, Harry decides to take the first step - call Zayn. It was two days of nothing and even if Harry doesn't remember, he can empathise with the situation. If he was in Zayn's shoes, he doesn't think he would even leave him but Harry _asked_ Zayn to leave him alone for now and it's probably a testament to their relationship that he let him, that he was supportive and brought Harry some things from home, like his laptop, charger and some clothes Harry couldn't believe were really his. (Since when does he wear huge, wide-legged pants? They do absolutely nothing for his arse.)

After breakfast, Harry realizes that he's bored. He's not used to being bored. Alongside that, he hates feeling useless. He's not at his job, which is understandable but still, he needs to add it to the list of steps he's meaning to take and it should be soon, before those memories leave him forever. So Harry cooks lunch for himself and his mum and changes out the cats' litter box. There. He's not so useless anymore.

It's around 3 PM when Harry finally feels brave enough to pick up his phone and call Zayn. He tries to remember that one video he saw, how happy Zayn looked. That photo with Noah on Harry's Facebook. They're still a family, even without the memories. Harry realizes that he can't just act like a 21-year-old again. Especially not when there are children involved. He's an adult, he has responsibilities and just because he can't remember what exactly those responsibilities are, it doesn't mean they're gone.

So Harry gets his phone and calls Zayn, who's saved as 'Loml' with lots of heart-shaped emojis and the contact photo is of Zayn making a funny face.

" _Harry?"_

For a split second, Harry considers hanging up. He should've texted. "Hi!" he says a bit too cheerfully before clearing his throat. "Hi. I just wanted to... have a chat I guess."

 _"That's good, yeah,"_ Zayn says and Harry can't even guess what he might be thinking. " _How are you? Are you feeling better?"_

"Yes, thank you," Harry replies. God, why is he so formal? "Niall came over."

" _I know,"_ Zayn replies. " _He told me before he left. Came over actually."_

"Yeah, I know," Harry nods, even though Zayn can't see through the phone. "How are you?"

Zayn takes a pause. _"I'm, uh, alright, all things considered. Noah's a bit of a nightmare, the terrible twos are truly hitting hard- sorry, you don't know about any of that, I won't burden you with that information right now."_

"No!" Harry says immediately. "No, please, I know I don't remember but I want to. I really want to. I have remembered a few things actually."

_"Oh? Something recent?"_

"Well, the first thing was Erin, Niall's ex," Harry chuckles nervously. "I asked him if he was married and after he said he was engaged and they broke up, her name and some memories of her just came back to me. Then, um, I called Xander."

_"You called him?"_

"Yes," Harry admits, his cheeks going red for no reason. "I wanted to know how we broke up, he told me and immediately, memories just came rushing back to me. So I remember that and basically the aftermath of it, a few weeks maybe. And also, um, how we started, you know, sleeping together. You and I."

" _Oh. Well, that's, uh, surprising,"_ Zayn says. " _But at least it's something. Guess I'm not just Niall's mate anymore. Hopefully, we'll go from 'booty call' to where we were last week."_

Harry laughs, his chest finally feeling lighter. "Yeah, hopefully. Oh, and today morning I woke up thinking I was late for work. I can kinda remember what my office looks like but that's it."

" _That's great, Haz,"_ Zayn says. " _If you wanted, I could call the receptionist for you? Or just do it yourself, her name's Freddie, you should have her number somewhere on your phone."_ Before he even finishes talking, Harry thinks he can hear Sadie screaming and then Zayn talking to her. " _No, not now, sweetheart, you'll talk to daddy later, yeah? I promise, baby."_

"I wanna talk to her," Harry says before he can stop himself. "I- it's okay, really. I know she must miss me."

" _She does,"_ Zayn says. " _Okay, here she goes."_

 _"Daddy!"_ Sadie screams into the phone. Harry smiles a little. " _I miss you! But dad said you're sick and you're with grandma now so I have to wait until you take me swimming again. Noah is annoying lately. He's crying if you say no but then he says no all the time! When are you coming back?"_

There's the guilt again. Both because he's missing out on this, he can't remember anything, yet he doesn't want to miss these moments. Why? He's not quite sure yet. But also it isn't fair for Zayn to be taking care of two kids under five on his own. He might act like it's fine but even though Harry can't remember taking care of his own children, he has a brood of godchildren too and those he remembers pretty well.

"I'll try to come soon, strawberry," Harry says. "Really soon. I'll be back so soon you won't even notice, yeah? What did you do today, love?"

" _I had camp and I just got back,"_ Sadie says. " _Noah tried to eat glue but dad stopped him. Oh, and we're having dinner with uncle Niall. But that's later today. What did you do, daddy?"_

"I cooked with grandma and... took care of her kitties," Harry replies. "Do you remember them?"

" _Of course, daddy, we went there like two weeks ago,"_ Sadie giggles. " _Dad said you don't remember stuff and that I shouldn't ask you much stuff but do you remember our kitty?"_

Harry raises his brows. Okay, so he forgot his husband, two children _and_ a cat. "No, sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

" _It's okay,"_ Sadie says offhandedly in the way children often do. " _I'll tell dad to send you a photo. His name is Paul and he's all black. His farts are very smelly. And his breath stinks. But he likes to cuddle and he licks my hand if I give him treats and sometimes when I take a nap, he takes a nap with me too."_

"Oh, that's so great, Sadie," Harry chokes out. Tears are lining his eyes again. "Can you give me dad again? We need to talk about grown-up stuff."

" _Okay, bye daddy, I love you."_

"I love you too, angel," Harry says. And it's true. He can't remember things, he doesn't even know what Sadie's second name is, but she still is his daughter and he loves her. Love like that can't just disappear.

 _"I forgot to tell you about Paul,"_ Zayn says when he's back on the phone. " _You adore that cat. We got him when Sadie was a baby. You thought it would be sick for her to have a pet that she literally grew up with. So far, it's working out. She loves that cat."_

"Can we meet up?" Harry asks, neglecting the info about their cat. "Like, tomorrow? It's Saturday. You don't have work, right?"

 _"No, I don't,"_ Zayn replies. " _Technically, I'm on leave until the end of next week."_

"I feel horrible for asking but what do you do?" Harry wants to hit his forehead with his palm but that would probably fuck up his brain even more. "I remember you did English in uni."

" _It's okay,"_ Zayn says but Harry knows it's obviously not okay. " _I'm a lecturer at UCL. It's summer, yeah, but I'm doing a summer class as well. Since Sadie and Noah are at camp now, you insisted, wanted them to socialize more, I figured I could do a class instead of sitting on my arse all summer. A colleague is covering my lectures for me right now."_

"I'm sorry," Harry says again.

" _It's not your fault, Haz,"_ Zayn says in a quiet voice. " _I'm just glad you're alive. The bloke that hit you didn't survive. At least you're here and you're healthy."_

Harry clears his throat. "So tomorrow? Coffee maybe?"

" _Yeah, we can do coffee,"_ Zayn says. " _How does midday sound? We can grab lunch too if you wanted. Sorry for the time but the kids will be at summer camp then, so. I can pick you up."_

"No, of course," Harry says quickly. "I just sit around and do a whole lot of nothing except for trying to remember my bloody life, but yeah, noon is fine. I'll be waiting."

" _Okay, I've got to go now, Noah's crying again,"_ Zayn sighs. " _I'll see you tomorrow."_

"Okay, see you tomorrow."

" _Oh, one more thing,"_ Zayn says just as Harry was about to hang up and wallow in self-pity. " _You remembered Sadie's nickname. Strawberry. You started calling her that when she was really tiny because when she cried, her face would get all red and then you'd be all like 'Aw, my little strawberry is crying'. So yeah. She doesn't get like that anymore, not really but the nickname stuck."_

Harry bites his lips, trying to keep the tears at bay. "That's really, really good. Really. I'll see you." He rushes to hang up the phone before he starts sobbing. Because he can remember it now. Sadie as an infant, teeny tiny, screaming her little lungs out. At first, it was just a small joke between him and Zayn, how red she got. He remembers getting concerned about it later and asking her GP if it's normal and okay at her 2-month check-up. After he had found out that Sadie is completely fine, Harry gave himself a green light on the strawberry nickname.

It's strange, the way he remembers things. Some would think it's like when on TV and a whole film rolls in his head, with the moments he's lost being replayed for him. But it's more like the cutting floor of an editing studio, just bits and pieces. He can suddenly see Sadie as a baby in his arms, her nursery around them. Bits of that GP interaction. Sadie lying on the bed between him and Zayn as they talked in hushed voices. Sadie's first laugh. A onesie with strawberries Harry got for her. Sadie in a strawberry patch grinning with her first teeth. Then it just stops.

Harry doesn't know for how long he cries on his mum's patio until she comes in, sitting next to him on the lounger and wrapping him in a hug.

"You alright, love?" Anne asks.

Harry lifts his head up from his hands, looking at her. "I have a daughter, mum, who's a really lovely and brilliant girl, and I call her 'strawberry'. And I can't remember what I did with her last week or the first time I held her or why we named her Sadie or what her first word was. I don't know if she has any allergies, what's her favourite animal, nothing. I do know that I love her so fucking much but I can't be a father to her right now. I don't think I can. And I'm _terrified_ I'll never be able to. Or I'll go back to them and they'll hate me because I'll be shit. I'm scared I'll come back, fuck everything up and lose them because I'll be not only a horrible father but a horrible husband as well."

"Harry," Anne says with an inviting smile but also her scolding voice. "You just told me you love her. And that's all you need to raise a child. Everything else will follow. You believed at first you're 21 right now, yes?"

Harry nods.

"Sadie came into your lives when you were 23, sweetie," Anne squeezes his hand. "You and Zayn got married when you were 22. It isn't that big of a difference, is it? Besides, you are actually 28 now and you've been a dad for almost five years. You're starting to remember it all and before you know it, you're back in that old routine again."

"You think so?" Harry asks miserably, sniffling.

"I know so," Anne squeezes his hand again. "Now, let's get out of this heat. I think there's sorbet in the freezer."

xxx

After that phonecall with Zayn and Sadie and crying for half an hour, plus some more over sorbet, Harry pulls out his phone and decides to go sleuthing. Dr Carrey said that forcing himself to remember things is very counterproductive so while Harry's determined to remember his children, to remember his marriage, he's also taking it easy. Or trying to.

He figures that Instagram is the best way to start. Not directly with his own account but he starts with his friends first. He texts Niall, asking who he should check out first (apart from Niall himself obviously). Niall promptly sends Harry a list, both of old friends Harry doesn't talk to anymore but they like each other's photos on Instagram and write birthday wishes on their Facebook walls, and also new people Harry normally sees regularly but now actually can't remember.

As he said, he starts with Niall. It's a pretty extensive Instagram account. There's a couple of stories there, which is also a thing that came about in the years Harry managed to forget. They're mostly about derby and golf. So Niall hasn't changed up. As he scrolls through Niall's feed, there are a few photos where Harry can find himself, Zayn always at his side, both of them grinning from ear to ear. Niall even has a few photos with the kids, Sadie mainly, and it looks like Niall's quite a proud godfather who's determined to teach Sadie how to play the guitar (and golf) no matter what. There are not many things from the years Harry remembers. Few pics from nights out, some photos of Guinness pints and that's about it.

Harry checks out Lou next, who's apparently an Instagram influencer now and nearly unrecognizable. Honestly, Harry wouldn't be able to who she was at first glance if she approached him randomly. Lux is no longer a baby but kind of on the cusp of her teenage years. Liam lives in Vegas now where he's a DJ. He seems to be doing well for himself. Louis apparently lived in LA for a while but recently moved back home up North. He's gonna have to ask Niall about all that since there seems to be too much grief littered around his posts.

Then Harry looks at his new friends. Niall recommended Mitch, Sarah and Adam. As Harry looks at their profiles, some things pop up here and there. How he met Mitch in a pizza shop a few weeks after he started doing his masters. How he set Mitch and Sarah up. Adam's wife for some reason. There are little things and he doesn't feel shocked when he sees his own face on their profiles from time to time. He can't remember much but for some reason, it grounds him, gives him a figurative blanket over his shoulders that says 'yes, you belong somewhere'.

It takes him a good while but after he's done, Harry checks a few celebrity profiles out of sheer curiosity. He's not at all stalling.

Eventually, he has to look at his profile.

The latest photo is just from last weekend, a few days before Harry's accident. It's a photo of just him and Zayn that must've been taken with a timer or a remote. They're sitting on a blanket on the beach, painted orange by the sunset, half-full stemless glasses of wine by their sides. Their faces are barely visible in the light but their heads are close together, conspiratory almost and their smiles break through the darkness. The caption reads, ' _It's always hard leaving our two little rascals behind but these few days by the coast alone, without two kids wiggling their way into our bed in the middle of the night, were quite refreshing. I'd call that a really successful 7-year-anniversary celebration. Here's to many more years with the most amazing (and gorgeous) man that I possibly could've found. You're an incredible husband, babe and such a great dad to Sadie and Noah. Love you forever. #NotWeddingAnniversary #JustDatingAnniversary #iGuess #NotReallyDating #WeStartedWithADrunkenShagSoSueUs'._

It's impossible not to cry because there is a hole in Harry's chest, he can feel it, he can feel himself caving into it and being consumed by the darkness. This was _last fucking week_ and he can't remember. He doesn't remember the love that is evident from the photo and the caption mainly. He doesn't remember the trip to the coast itself. He doesn't remember why he ended this caption with 'Love you forever'. Everything that was important to him, that is still important to all the people he can't remember is gone. Almost entirely.

The next photo is one of Sadie and Noah, standing side by side with matching grins. Sadie's thrown up a peace sign. ' _Someone's excited about summer camp! That will surely bring about lots of boo-boos to kiss and some sunburn. But there will be new friends and great memories too! #NoahDidntEvenCry #MyBabysGettingBig:(',_ the caption says. It's almost wholly alien to Harry, except for the little detail that came into his mind. Sadie's scraped knee that he sprayed with antiseptic on their patio and the sunburn on her nose that required some aloe from the plant in the conservatory.

It hurts more and more with each picture because Harry can see himself. He's clearly there in the photos, he wrote all those captions yet he feels like an intruder. This guy running this account is a great dad who adores his two kids and is still enamoured with his husband even after almost a decade together. And while Harry has started to remember a few things, and he _knows_ he loves both Sadie and Noah, he still can't quite connect the two. How did he get there? When did he become someone who gets sad about his two-year-old growing up?

The next few photos are from their holiday in Portugal. One of Sadie and Noah playing in the sand. A video of Sadie doing a cartwheel. A photo of Zayn from the back with Sadie on his shoulders. One of Harry on the beach holding Noah. A picture of Sadie lying belly-down on the sand, watching a crab.

This sequence of photos makes Harry remember only one thing - Noah crying after a seagull stole his ice cream. There was laughter and cuddles and an ice cream replacement.

Harry decides to quickly scroll just through the past year or so. A lot of the posts are of the kids and there are literally no selfies. It looks curated, almost. There are photos and videos from Noah's birthday. The one from Facebook, also with a video of the party singing Happy Birthday to him. Noah with cake all over his face and a wide grin. Another nearly identical photo but now with Paul the cat licking off the icing from Noah's face. A throwback photo of Noah from the day he was born. Then it pretty much goes back to normal. There are some photos of outings with friends. Random photos of Zayn when he wasn't looking at the camera, always with a cheeky caption and usually a winking emoji too. Some food posts. A few quotes and stuff about mental health awareness. Loads of pictures of the kids. Some jogging milestones that probably piss people off when they see them (They used to piss Harry off. He didn't think he would ever become one of the people who posts them.) Few photos of Paul doing funny things. Just a regular life documented through the means of modern social media.

It's time to lock the phone when Harry gets to Christmas from the previous year and a rather adorable photo of them all (Paul too) sitting on the carpet in front of the tree in matching pyjamas. Harry wipes his tears and stops torturing himself because there is this amazing life, this picture-perfect life that is _his_ yet it doesn't feel like it. He _wants_ to get it back but he's afraid he won't ever be able to. How can he go back to his husband if he doesn't know why he fell in love with him in the first place? How can he be the father to his kids that they need?

As Harry feels the telltale signs of a headache coming in, he retreats back to his room and figures it's best to take a nap. Maybe the rest for his brain will help him. At this point, he'd do anything.

xxx

When Harry bolts awake a few hours later, it's already dark. Considering it's summer, he must've slept for a while. But when he comes to, he feels better than he did before, even if his eyes are still swollen from all the crying.

Harry tries to look at his Instagram again and when he starts scrolling, his heart jumps. He can remember more than he did before, his memory filling in details as he sees the photos. It's still incomplete but he can remember more than before. He knows that Noah's Paddington cake was one with vanilla buttercream and blueberries. He cried the morning of Noah's birthday because of the reminder that he's getting older and soon, he won't be a baby but a proper boy. Sadie asked for a sister after the party.

The holiday is clearer too. Harry remembers the name of the city where they stayed. One of his patients texted him in the middle of the night and he had to talk Brian out of a suicide. Zayn fell asleep on the beach and got a nasty sunburn. When they had sex later that night, he was owing and complaining about it and it was making Harry laugh so much he woke up Sadie. Noah puked on the flight back home.

It's sometimes the most random things but it's _something._ There is actual real hope that Harry will regain enough memory to live his life again. It makes him smile like a mad man in an empty room and his first impulse is to tell Zayn. Harry's heart skips a beat as if he was a teenager at the idea of that. Zayn's his bloody _husband._ They're not in uni anymore, shagging when they're both drunk or high and then being shy about it in the morning.

So Harry picks up his phone and texts him. ' _Went through my Instagram. Just until Christmas of last year. I've remembered a few things. That sunburn from Portugal was interesting lol.'_ Is that too flirty? Should he not be flirty? He doesn't remember much but they _are_ married.

The reply comes quite promptly, ' _It really was. Your memory has a funny way of going about things lol.'_

Harry smiles, texting back, ' _It's not just that. There are a few things from Noah's 2nd bday, some things from the holiday. And other random stuff too. I'm slowly getting there :)'._

' _I'm very happy about that babe xx. I've gotta go to bed tho, it's late. See you tomorrow x'._

Okay, a few kisses and a pet name, that's a good step forward. Harry wishes him goodnight and tries not to grin. Why does this whole chaste texting make Harry feel like he did when they first started sleeping together? It's been years and they have six years of marriage behind them.

Maybe it's because at first, Zayn seemed cold. He still does a little. But Harry understands, at least to an extent. The possibility of Harry not remembering his life is still there and he needs to protect the kids, and himself too. It's a hard and painful situation that needs to be handled with care.

But now Harry has something to look forward to. They have a coffee date tomorrow.

xxx

Harry wakes up with a throbbing headache. It's possible his rather late night was what caused it, as he was on his laptop until 3 AM, dissecting his life. Some memories came back, some photos and videos remain foreign to him still. After he takes his pills with breakfast, it starts to get better.

"I'm starting to remember more," Harry tells his mum after breakfast, their empty plates and half-full mugs still on the table. "The photos help a lot. It's still just bits and pieces, nothing concise or cohesive."

"That's great, love," Anne smiles. "You're meeting up with Zayn today, aren't you? Are you going to see the kids too?"

Harry shrugs. "I've no idea. But I don't think so. He wanted to meet up while they are at camp. And I understand. They'd expect me to just... be as I was and I'm not." Silence takes over the room. Harry chews on his bottom lip. "Mum?"

"Yes?"

Harry clears his throat, looking down at the plate with crumbs. "Can you-" he looks up with a frustrated sigh. "Could you tell me what kind of a couple Zayn and I are? Like, how did you perceive us? What I've remembered so far it just, it doesn't help much. I've got the full picture of how we started... dating. But from right now, who we are as husbands and parents, I don't know much. I get the idea but social media doesn't really show you the fights and the problems."

"You two have a pretty ideal relationship," Anne says with a chuckle. "When you decided to get married before either of you has even finished your masters, I didn't think it would last, to be honest. I fought with you about it, tried to convince you to wait at least until you're both done with school but you wouldn't listen. Then you started talking about children and for a moment, I thought you'd gone mad. But then there was Sadie and you two were as happy as ever.

"Honestly, you call me nearly every day and talk about... everything and as far as I know, because I know only what you've told me and what I've seen myself, you and Zayn barely fight. If you do, it's usually only about something relating to the kids. Like, you wanted Sadie and Noah to go to summer camp but Zayn wanted them to just have a normal summer and only sign them up for swimming lessons. Things like that. When Sadie and Noah aren't around you, it's easy to forget that you two aren't just in the very beginnings of dating when you're just falling in love and can't get enough of each other. But then, without them, it wouldn't be you because you both adore them so much and your whole lives revolve around them. Still, you do bring them over for a night here and there when you want to go out for a date or out with your friends."

"Really?" Harry asks, a slight dumbfounded smile on his lips. "I'm actually in a happy and healthy marriage?"

Anne laughs. "Yes, you are. You and Zayn are obsessed with each other. I feared you'd be divorced by now but everything seems fine with you two."

"Do you think we could get there again?" Harry wonders, the mood shifting. "Even if I don't remember things?"

Anne cocks her head, a wistful smile on her lips. "I think that's a question for someone else."

"Right," Harry nods, his palms flat on a table. "I should start getting ready," he sighs. "I'm really nervous, mum. I don't know how to act."

"Just be yourself," Anne puts her hand on top of his. "He already loves you. You do too, even if you don't quite remember it."

"Thanks, mum," Harry smiles. He stands up and dusts off his pants. "Right. I'm going upstairs to see what I should wear. It seems like my entire wardrobe's changed. That'll be fun. Not really."

"I'm here if you need anything."

The next two hours, Harry paces around his old bedroom, trying to figure out what to wear and literally how to survive a coffee date with his own husband without dying of embarrassment. It's strange, it's very, very strange because naturally, his brain wants to go to years ago when they were just starting out and not to a week ago, when they were celebrating their 7th anniversary. It could be a first date for all his mind cares. Only it isn't.

Harry tries to divert his attention and line of thought to those memories he has regained already. Those few precious moments with their kids. Portugal. And even to those, he can't quite remember like their anniversary earlier this month. They'll be fine eventually. They have to be.

In the end, Harry puts on the only pair of jeans he found within his new clothes and it's still a light blue and flared one. He learns that there's quite a bit of colour in his new style. There's not a single piece of black clothing, save for his gym clothes, which is strange considering Harry pretty much used to live in skinny black jeans and black tees. So Harry opts for a plain white tee with the jeans. And... Vans? He's apparently the kind of a person who wears Vans now. Cool.

Even though it's been almost a week since Harry woke up in the hospital with seven years of his life missing from his memory, finding a link between himself and the way he looks now is still challenging. When he looks into a mirror, he does see himself but he doesn't at the same time. Because he's not the fresh-faced 21-year-old he remembers being. He's 28, he's been married for five years and he has two children. There are some lines on his face he doesn't recall having. His features are sharper, his hair is shorter. He doesn't get pimples anymore and he can actually grow some stubble.

His body has changed too and sometimes, Harry feels like he's been placed into someone else's meat suit. Walking up the stairs feels different. He's leaner than he was. His right wrist hurts sometimes if he puts too much strain on it. There are tattoos on his skin that weren't there before. His body has gone through all these changes in eight years that are completely normal but with the memory loss, Harry has to accept them all at the same time and not gradually like he actually did, but doesn't remember it. It's an avalanche that knocks him down every time he passes a mirror and at times, fails to recognize himself.

The doorbell rings three minutes before 12 and Harry's heartbeat starts thrumming through his entire body as if he was standing next to a massive speaker blasting hard rock. Nevertheless, his legs carry him out of his room, yelling 'I'm coming!' as he comes down the stairs. On the very last step, he freezes.

"Mum?" Harry calls out as he slowly starts walking again.

Anne pops in from the living room. "Yeah?"

"Where is my wedding ring?" Harry asks quietly. "I completely forgot about it."

"Oh, it's in my room," Anne replies. "It's on my vanity in this little bag along with the other jewellery that you had on when you were admitted to the hospital. It just slipped my mind, I'm sorry, love."

"It's okay," Harry gives her a tepid smile. "I'll go get it in a moment."

As he walks to the entryway, anxiety starts to bite at his ankles. He takes a deep breath, putting his hand on the door handle. Harry actually hasn't seen Zayn since the morning he was discharged from the hospital. They've spent pretty much every day together for the past seven years yet Harry's nervous about a fucking coffee date. The irony of it all.

"Hiya!" Harry says a bit too cheerfully when he opens the door. "Please come in, I've just forgot something upstairs. I'll be back in a pinch."

Zayn looks a little confused but he gives Harry a small smile as he walks in. "That's fine, there's no rush. How are you?"

"I'm good, yeah," Harry says a little breathlessly. "Um, I'll just go get... my thing and I'll be back."

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. Harry nearly groans as he flees up the stairs. He's like a bloody giraffe learning how to walk. But what else was he supposed to do other than stumble over his words when Zayn showed up on his doorstep, looking gorgeous and Harry wanted to eat him. Then he did actually remember they're married and there's no need to act like a flustered teenager. It's a bit of a feat though, when his brain often likes to think they've only just started dating. Remembering the reality requires effort and it shocks Harry how easy it is for him to forget.

He finds the bag in his mum's room right away and frowns. Sure enough, there's his wedding ring, a simple gold band but there are also a bunch of other rings, one more obnoxious than the other. In addition to the rings, there are two cross necklaces - one solid gold and another made out of jade. Hm. Without much thought, Harry slides the wedding ring onto his finger. After a beat, he picks up the two necklaces and clasps them around his neck. He wonders if they're purely just jewellery or there's a story to go along with them.

Harry stops dead in his track when he's walking down the stairs after he spots his mum hugging Zayn. He crunches a bit unconsciously, not wanting to be spotted.

"Are you really alright?" Anne asks when she pulls away, leaving her hands on Zayn's shoulders. "I know Sadie and Noah can be a handful. Do you need someone to watch them? Because Emily could-"

"No, it's honestly fine," Zayn gives her a rueful smile. "I mean, it's hard because the kids miss Haz a lot and I do too but you know, what can you do in a situation like this? Besides, Niall's always eager to watch them. He lives literally three streets away. He had them yesterday afternoon."

"That's good," Anne nods. "But don't hesitate to call me about anything, alright?"

"Of course," Zayn agrees.

A floorboard squeaks underneath Harry. Two pairs of eyes are suddenly on him.

"Ready to go?" Harry asks cheerfully as he starts descending the stairs rapidly, a too-big grin on his face.

"Yeah," Zayn replies but still gives Harry a questioning look. They're in the car within a minute and Harry fears the awkward silences that are surely about to come. But he wants to combat them. "Where are we headed?" he asks Zayn as they pull from the curb.

"Uh, it's this one place in Hampsted," Zayn replies. "We used to go there a lot the first few months we were dating. Almost every weekend. We'd go to a party the night before and then in the morning, you'd pull me out of bed and make me eat some healthy vegan crap instead of something good and greasy to fight the hangover," he chuckles. Harry's mouth quirks a little because it does ring a bell. "We don't have much time for fancy brunches these days, obviously. But I figured, as you said you remembered how we started off, you might remember this too."

"I do a little," Harry agrees. "Not too clearly but it's not completely strange to me. It has like a, French name, right?"

Zayn turns to him briefly, smiling. "Yeah, yeah it does. I'm really glad you remember at least these small bits."

"Me too," Harry fidgets with his wedding ring. He never used to wear rings on this finger, even if there was one on every single finger, but never this one. Now there's one allocated to it forever. "It's hard to explain, you know, how those memories come back. Because it's always just bits and pieces and I still can't get a clear picture of pretty much _anything_ and it's really frustrating. But some things help. Photos, talking to people. I mean, I do have a degree in psychology, two apparently, but I never learned about memory loss extensively in uni. It was mostly just repressed memories in like, abuse victims. This is medical, while I focused on the behavioural side of things."

"You're getting at least some memories back, though," Zayn says, his eyes on the road. "Dr Carrey said it'd be worrying if you didn't start remembering at all and nothing could help you jog your memory. A little is better than nothing."

"Yeah, of course," Harry nods. "I just- it's hard because I'm trying to bridge together two parts of my life. One that I remember and one that I don't. Because like, I don't think I am right now who I was before the accident. Or am I?"

Zayn takes a long pause. He doesn't let his eyes stray from the road. For a moment, Harry fears he isn't going to reply at all. But he does. "It will always be you, Harry," Zayn says, turning his head to Harry as they come across a red light. "But no." Harry slumps slightly in disappointment. "You are still you but a week ago, the first thing you would've asked me is how are the kids and not where are we going. You would've been wearing your rings and you wouldn't have forgotten your necklaces because they wouldn't have left your neck in the first place. You probably would've already changed the radio station or plugged in your phone to play like, Joni Mitchell even though her music makes me drowsy when I'm driving."

"Oh," is all that Harry says a significant while later.

"It's just small things," Zayn says after a long silence. "Most people probably wouldn't notice. After being married to someone for six years, you pay attention to things not everyone does. We're also too co-dependent on each other, or we were. You would say that same thing."

Harry breathes shakily, peeling his back off the car seat. "What are some of these little things you like the most about me?" he tries to change the mood. Guilt, remorse, grief. Harry's sick of it.

Zayn lets out a small surprised laugh. "Really?" he looks at Harry. Shrugging, Harry just smiles and nods. "Okay, um, I really do love your positivity, even though it can drive me crazy sometimes, especially in the morning."

"That's nice," Harry remarks. "Good to know I haven't turned into a bitter arsehole."

"You used to be a bit bitter," Zayn drawls, as if he was deciding whether it's a good idea to mention it or not. "Back when we started dating. You weren't all sunshine and rainbows all the time. Sometimes you used to close yourself off and be smiling at people but as soon as no one was looking, or you thought so, you'd be frowning and have this line between your brows. And you'd be a bit nihilistic sometimes."

"When did it stop?" Harry frowns. He knows he wasn't the perfect picture of happiness back then. He used to get depressed, used to have days when nothing seemed like it mattered and he scarcely got out of bed.

"Mostly when you really started getting into the second semester of your masters," Zayn replies. "You took this one class and you started implementing changes to be more positive and you stopped suppressing feelings. But a real shift was after Sadie. Like, we were young but we really wanted to have kids regardless. And with her coming into our lives, I guess we both just became happier. You were impacted by it more, I guess and you started regretting not doing child psychology in uni. So now you mainly work with people in their late teens and young adults."

"Oh," Harry perks up. "I did remember that! That bit about working with young people."

Zayn smiles at him encouragingly. "Thing number two is how sneakily funny you are. You're not like Niall, who just entertains the entire party without abandon. But you make me laugh every single day, with your quips and your made-up songs and also your dirty mind you've been keeping a secret from the kids. It's really special to me when you make the kids laugh with shitty jokes and silly games and dances. I could watch it all day, honestly."

Harry feels his eyes getting wet. He clears his throat. "Knock knock?"

The corner of Zayn's lips quirks up. "Who's there?"

"Boo," Harry says, his throat tight.

Zayn breathes in. "Boo who?"

"Don't cry, it's only a knock-knock joke," Harry gets out as a tear escapes his left eye. He turns his head quickly, wiping his face. He tries to laugh, and Zayn tries to join him but it's a miserable mix of chuckles because they're both painfully aware of all that is at stake here. Harry barely remembers their family. They're acting like they're little more than strangers and it's fucking agonizing because Harry has a ring on his hand that once upon a time, Zayn gave to him with the mutual promise of eternal love and support and that's what they both signed up for. They didn't want to be torn apart by a dismal fucking situation like this. They're trying not to be but it's scary, it is, and it's hard because neither of them knows if Harry will get his memories back, if he becomes the father and husband he was just a short while ago. Not having a clue what the future holds for them, not knowing whether their kids will have both their parents again is fucking terrifying. Since regaining some memories, it's even harder for Harry because he _knows_ he loves his children. He does. But he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to return to them.

"You tell Sadie that joke every time she's crying," Zayn says after a while. Harry turns to look at him, his eyes wide. "Do I?"

"Yeah, you do," Zayn smiles a little. Harry sags against the seat. "I do," he whispers. His mind makes the link between the memory he'd remembered of taking care of Sadie's scraped knee just this month. He told her that joke then too.

Harry begins to recognize their surroundings, seeing that they're pretty close to the café. Thankfully. A heavy cloud of grief sits atop them. Even without saying it out loud, they're both grieving for the life that was taken from them.

Zayn parks the car almost right in front of the café and they silently get out. Harry walks into the café first and despite Zayn saying they haven't been there in years, he would swear he's been there less than a month ago. The smell of pastries is familiar but Harry notices some changes in the decor. There are new light fixtures, as well as seating on the windows. One wall now has wallpaper.

"Where should we sit?" Harry stops a few steps into the café, turning back to Zayn. His breath hitches when Zayn puts his hand on his hip and moves him out of the way of a server coming through. Harry's flooded by the memories that have come to him recently. Things mostly from their beginnings, of sleepless nights full of sex and that playful teasing in public, a kiss here and a bite there.

"Wherever you want, I don't have a preference," Zayn says then, pulling Harry out of his daydreaming. God, it would be fucking embarrassing if Harry got a hard-on in the middle of a café from this. His jeans would do _nothing_ to hide it.

Harry leads them to the most secluded table he can spot. He doesn't need strangers eavesdropping on their conversation and hear how Harry's trying to piece his life back together memory by memory. Just as they get seated, a server approaches them and they each other a Cappucino and a triple chocolate cookie. 

"So," Harry clears his throat, resisting fiddling with the small vase in the middle of the table. It's off-centre. And he's anxious. "How are the kids, really?"

"I'll just say it as it is, they miss you a lot," Zayn sighs softly. "Sadie's asking about swimming all the time and Noah sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night asking for you. But apart from that, they're really good. Noah's learning new words constantly, Sadie's certainly on her way to becoming like, a Nobel prize laureate or a world leader. They're both brilliant."

Harry nods, avoiding Zayn's gaze. He might have a feeling Zayn's doing the same thing. "I think I miss them too, you know," Harry divulges. "I remember new things each day and it's getting better. I still have trouble with like, identifying myself as their dad? It sounds strange, I know. But I still know I love them," Harry dares to lift his head up. He finds Zayn watching him, worry at the corners of his lips. "When I look at photos of them, I can feel something pulling at my chest, at my heart. I'm trying to remember more and more, to be their daddy again. It's just... hard."

"I can't imagine what must be going through your head," Zayn says, shaking his head slightly.

"Well," Harry chuckles nervously. "It's a mess, more often than not. I can't picture what you must be thinking."

Zayn sighs, laying his arms out on the table. "It's like a nightmare I keep waiting to wake up from. But it never ends. This is real."

"I'm sorry," Harry says quietly, his eyes flitting from place to place.

"Haz, you need to stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault," Zayn says concisely. "It happened and we just have to deal with it. There's no other way."

Harry breathes in, wanting to say something. Nothing quite comes out. He's saved by the server who brings them their coffees and cookies. What an ex-machina.

"Can I ask you some things?" Harry manages to question after a moment. He doesn't have any appetite.

"Of course," Zayn replies, plunging the spoon into his coffee. "Anything, babe."

Here it is, _babe_ again. Harry tries not to get his hopes up. "Um, I think going about it chronologically is the best way so, like, what happened with us after that first summer?"

"We moved in together," Zayn replies and takes a sip of his coffee. He licks his lips and Harry's heart skips a beat. He did marry one very gorgeous man, didn't he? "Our leases we up so we figured finding something together would be for the best. I lived with Niall and Liam, and Niall went to do his masters in Dublin, Liam didn't continue with uni so he couldn't have student housing anymore. We didn't end up getting student housing actually, we got our own flat. It was tiny but it was ours and it was just us, no roommates. Then I guess our relationship just really escalated, thanks to our living together. As Niall likes to say, we fell madly in love and the rest was history."

Harry smiles wistfully. He can only remember bits and pieces of this. He needs to pull up some photos later. "Who proposed?"

Zayn laughs. "No one, kind of."

"What?" Harry frowns.

"The idea of getting married first came up around my birthday, a little over two months before we actually got married," Zayn explains. "Your grand idea for a birthday present was using your naked body as a sushi plater. You got it from Sex and the City." Harry goes red. This does sound like him. Curiously, he suddenly remembers the nasty feeling of having raw fish on his cock. Never again. "You got us some Japanese liquor and we got _pissed_ and in your drunken stupor, you were like 'I was your birthday gift but it was pretty anticlimactic. How about my hand in marriage?'. You literally said hand in marriage. After I stopped laughing at that, I said yeah, why not? Then it came up again a few days later when we were both sober and I guess we just went with it."

"Niall was right, we _were_ psychos," Harry laughs. "I assume the topic of kids came about in a very similar way?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Zayn grins. "We were at the National Gallery one weekend, around Christmas I think, sitting in front of those two paintings with like, medieval kitchens on them. And then this toddler was running around and she nearly slammed her head into the wooden bench but you caught her and gave her to her mum. Then you just kind of looked at me and I knew you had one of your batshit ideas because you had this mirth in your eyes. So you looked at me and you just went 'I kinda want one of those'. So guess who came about in November the next year?"

Harry grins from ear to ear. "Sadie."

"Sadie," Zayn nods, a smile tugging at his lips. "It's hard to say no to you."

"You can't tell me you didn't want kids too," Harry chuckles.

"I did, yeah," Zayn agrees. "But it was a bit out of place hearing you say that while we were still in uni."

"We weren't in uni in November," Harry argues. "Besides, we _were_ married."

"That we were," Zayn nods once. "D'you know why you always wear those cross necklaces?"

Harry frowns. "No. No, I have no clue, actually. I used to wear this silver cross, had it for ages. But I don't remember these two. Today, I just saw them and put them on without thinking."

"Yeah, your old cross was really tarnished and the chain broke," Zayn explains. "It was around the time Sadie came around and I was thinking about getting a tattoo for her. So I did, it's on my ribs and then I got you that gold cross. It was for Christmas too. Look at the back of it."

Harry takes the necklace and flips it around. There's an _S_ engraved on the back. Harry swallows.

"And then after Noah, I got you the jade one," Zayn continues. "Same thing with the engraving."

True to Zayn's words, an _N_ is engraved into the stone. Harry clutches the crosses in his hand, suddenly blinking away tears. He can't focus on anything.

"When did I get the tattoos then?" Harry wonders. He assumed it was with each kid.

"When Noah turned one," Zayn says. "You got them both at the same time."

"God, I hate this," Harry groans. He covers his face with his hands. His coffee and cookie still remain untouched. "It's like, my life's gone," his voice comes out muffled. "It's all gone."

A couple of moments later, Harry feels a warm hand on his, clutching it gently and pulling it away from his face. "Hey," Zayn says, his voice low. "It's not gone. Nothing's gone as long as I'm here, as long as Sadie and Noah are here. As long as you're here trying to remember."

"Zayn..." Harry breathes in sharply. "What if I never remember enough?"

Zayn slowly drops his hand from Harry's, his eyes turned away. "We don't have to worry about that right now, we're not in that situation," his gaze meets Harry's. "It's been scarcely a week. How about- would you mind showing me like, what things you've remembered? I can help you fill in the gaps."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Harry says quickly, patting his pockets for his phone.

"Shit, I forgot to bring you your journals." Harry looks up at Zayn, confused. "Your personal and work journals. The work one is basically a rundown of your patients that you bring home with you. The first one is just like, ticket stubs and polaroids with a little caption. I'll bring them to you next time we see each other."

Harry wants to argue, that they should go and pick them up afterwards. Not because he necessarily wants the journals but he wants to see their house. Maybe he'll come in, see the space they've occupied for however many years and he'll magically remember anything. He'll be the dad and the husband again, the successful therapist who actually saves his patients lives and not the frazzled 21-year-old falling in love.

But he doesn't. "Okay, yeah, thanks," Harry says and pulls out his phone. "So, um, Instagram was the best so far."

The air between them clears up a bit as they both lean over the table to look at photos at Harry's phone. A genuine smile lights up Zayn's face as he talks about their kids and their experiences together and it's a wonder to watch. Harry laughs at the stories, sometimes has the urge to cry but he feels the strongest about just snatching this incredible life back. He wants to remember kisses by the sunsets in Portugal without being prompted. He wants to know that Sadie stepped on a sea urchin there withing being told so. He wants to remember their 7th anniversary past the blurry images of them making love with the balcony door open and having ravioli for dinner. It's really fucking difficult but it also warms Harry's heart, knowing that all this really happened and whether or not he remembers it, his life and the people around him were affected by it and it brought him to this amazing place where he has a loving husband and two amazing kids.

The coffee date ends when Zayn looks at his watch and says 'Shit.'.

"What?" Harry wonders.

"I need to pick the kids up from summer camp," Zayn sighs. "We should go, I really don't want to hear Sadie nag all day about me being late to pick them up. She really gets that from you, you know?" Zayn stands up and pulls out a 20£, leaving it underneath his coffee cup. "Anyway, I have to drop you off at your mum's first."

Harry then gets an idea. An ambitious one. "Can I, um," Harry stands up and nearly trips over his flared jeans. What the hell was wrong with his skinnies that he started wearing these? "Can I come with you?"

"To pick the kids up?" Zayn stares at him with his brows his on his forehead.

Harry clears his throat. "Yeah. I mean, I haven't seen Sadie since the hospital. And I haven't seen Noah since before the accident. I just- I'd like to see them."

Zayn presses his lips together. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Harry pushes. They've started walking out of the café. Zayn's the one going first this time. "They're my children too, Zayn."

"God, Haz, I know they are," Zayn scoffs. He holds the door open for Harry before walking away, Harry thanking him quickly. "I'm not trying to keep you away from them but I'm worried that they'll overwhelm you. Or they'll get upset after you won't remember something and suddenly there'd be a toddler and a four-year-old throwing tantrums. I'm just trying to avoid a nasty fucking situation, babe."

Harry lets out a noise. "That's bound to happen either way. Or am I just supposed to stay away from them forever? What if this helps me remember them better than anything else?"

Zayn's silent as they look at each other over the roof of the car, both on their own side door. "Fine," Zayn relents and opens his door. "But please, if they ask you anything too specific, just change the topic." He gets into the car and Harry follows his suit. "I've given them the whole talk, about how daddy was hurt and forgot a lot of things so I'm really hoping Sadie will get it. She did well on the phone call. But Noah's two and he has his own toddler language that you most likely won't understand. So just... be careful."

Harry bites his lip. "Have you told them I forgot them?"

"What?" Zayn frowns at him. They're on the road already. "No, fuck, I'm not a monster. I'd never tell our children one of their parents _forgot they existed_. Noah wouldn't understand but Sadie would and that'd surely fuck her up."

"Okay, I just asked," Harry puts his hands up. "Is the camp far?"

"No, it's actually just a few streets away," Zayn says. "They go to the park every day."

Silence stuffs the car up with unease.

"I'm sorry, Haz," Zayn sighs after a while. "I'm just worried about them. I'm also worried about you. I don't want you to like, have a bad reaction to something they do and it'd fuck your memory up even more."

"It's okay," Harry says softly. He considers putting his hand on Zayn's knee but decides against it. "I would've done the same if I were in your shoes. I just- I just wanna see my babies."

"I know," Zayn smiles a bit sadly, momentarily looking away from the road. "They wanna see you too. After that phone call, Sadie wouldn't shut up about you and all the things you're gonna do once you're back."

"Such as?" Harry inquires. "I've obviously caught onto swimming."

Zayn laughs. "Yeah. And she wants to try yoga. She'd seen you do it and begged you to join but you wanted to find something kid-friendly first. Then she wants to do your nails together. She hates how chipped her nails are but she says only you can do her nails in the right away. Then she wants to bake something."

"Looks like I'm gonna be pretty busy once I'm back," Harry chuckles. It's dangerous territory, assuming that he will be anytime soon. His heart wants to but his head with two psychology degrees is telling him something else.

"Yep," Zayn agrees. "You'll have to do it all with Noah clinging onto you because he won't let you put him down once you're back."

"Really?" Harry grins. He has vague memories of carrying Noah around. Most of the moments with Noah he's remembered so far, he was carrying him in a way. On his hip on the beach in Portugal and at home. In his arms with Noah as a baby. On his back like a cape, with Noah giggling up a riot into his ear.

"Yeah, he loves when you hold him," Zayn says. For some reason, Harry feels like they're getting closer to the summer camp. Perhaps his memory is having a bright moment. "When he was a baby, you could barely put him down or he'd start crying. You literally got carpal tunnel on your right wrist that's still bothering you today." So that's where the pain in his wrist is from. "You were really against those cribs like Snoo and those chairs that rock the baby on their own. But when you could barely write because of your wrist, I just bought a chair like that without you knowing and thankfully, you still have a functioning wrist today. Noah loved it and then we also got Snoo and slept through the night for the first time in three months."

"Oh, wow," Harry moves his wrist around. It doesn't hurt now. "I really am stubborn, huh?"

"You're probably gonna need surgery on it one day," Zayn notes. "And we're almost there."

Harry perks up. In the distance, he can see a bunch of little kids standing around, an adult here or there. There's one car parked where a mum is actually picking up her two boys.

"We're quite early today," Zayn comments as he parks the car. "This doesn't happen often."

When Zayn gets out of the car, Harry follows suit but he doesn't walk with him to the camp supervisor or teacher or whatever they're called. He doesn't remember the lady's name and it'd only be weird. She must've been informed about what happened and so far, Harry has been doing fine without the pitying looks of people he doesn't know.

He watches as Zayn talks to her for a moment, signs something on a clipboard, probably the register and then crouches down to Sadie and Noah, who let themselves be pulled into a hug and kissed. Harry's heartbeat accelerates as he sees them again. He expected to feel like he's seeing Noah for the first time ever but he doesn't. He's suddenly yearning to hold Noah again, to cuddle him and smell his hair. It's like he hasn't been gone at all. Seeing Sadie in the hospital has no effect either because when Harry sets his eyes on her, all he can think about is little Sadie trying to say strawberry when she was about Noah's age. They're his babies and no bloody fucking retrograde amnesia can change that.

Zayn tells something to the kids and their heads turn to Harry, their eyes wide. At lightning speed, they break away from Zayn and start running towards Harry as fast as their little legs allow them to. It's an instinct then, to squat down on the pavement and wait for Sadie and Noah to plummet into him. And they do moments later and Harry hugs them each with one arm so hard he's scared for a second he's gonna squash their little bodies but there's also the fear that if he lets go, they're gonna float away from him and the memories he's managed to scrape back along with them.

"Oh, sweethearts," Harry breathes out between kissing their heads about a million times. "I've missed you so, so much. You can't even imagine how much I've missed you," he pulls away a little when he feels them trying to wiggle away, but still, he keeps a hand on their waists, keeping them close. "How are you, darlings? How was camp?"

"It was so cool, daddy!" Sadie exclaims. "We played quidditch today!"

"Oh, really?" Harry chuckles. He didn't think his children would be into something that came out when he was a kid. "Were you flying?"

"No, we weren't," Sadie's shoulder slump and she pouts a little. "But we had pizza for lunch."

Harry gasps. "Pizza? And no vegetables?"

"There were mushrooms on it!" Sadie grins. "I was the only one who didn't pick them off."

"That's a good girl," Harry smiles. "Give daddy a kiss." Sadie complies, leaving a wet smack on his lips before breaking away and going to try and open the boot herself. Meanwhile, Noah just keeps on grinning and trying to wiggle out of Harry's grasp.

"And what about you, baby?" Harry coos at Noah as he stands up with him, propping him up on his hip. "How was my favourite boy, huh?" Noah shouts something that may or may not be 'good'. "I thought so. Did you miss daddy, honey?" Noah nods and claps his hands. "I missed you too, angel," Harry whispers into his hair after leaving another kiss there. He then goes and starts leaving multiple kisses on Noah's face, until he squeals with glee and tries to do the same to Harry, along with some light-hearted smacking that is just a package deal with a toddler. Harry hugs Noah close to his chest, rocking him a little. He smells his hair then and it's like no memories are missing from his brain at all. He closes his eyes and tries to remember how he always did it when Noah was a baby with just a sprinkling of hair. Now he has a head full of dark curls and that baby smell is gone but it's true what they say, that you could never forget or mislabel the scent of your child.

Harry expected some memories to come back but he didn't expect this overwhelming feeling. These aren't specific memories, putting the puzzle of his life together but it's something that can't be described. It's a silky duvet wrapping itself around Harry's heart and mending all the broken things that have been making him bleed with their jagged edges these past few days. He knows he's holding his child and even without having the memories to back it all up, Harry knows he loves his children more than anything in the world.

"Harry?"

Zayn's already got Sadie strapped into her car seat. There's another empty one for Noah.

Harry kisses Noah multiple times in a row before walking over to the car. "I'll strap him in."

"You remember how?" Zayn quirks an eyebrow.

"It's a car seat, how hard can it be?" Harry says bravely. A few moments later, after Zayn's already in the driver's seat, Harry re-learns just how difficult baby car seats are. He doesn't show his frustration and after a few minutes and Sadie saying, "Daddy, it's taking foreverrrrrrrrrr.", Harry gets the straps all in their place and it's nice and secure.

When he gets into the passenger's seat, Zayn's grinning at him.

"Shut up," Harry tries not to laugh as he's fastening his seat belt.

"I didn't say anything," Zayn chuckles and they start driving.

On the drive back, Harry looks into the rearview mirror a million times. He also turns around in his seat so many times his neck starts to hurt. Sadie mostly ignores him and plays on her iPad while Noah's slowly drifting off to sleep between chewing on a toy. That's a habit he should get rid of soon, Harry notes mentally.

Before he knows it, they're in front of his mum's house again and it's time to say goodbye. It's wordless, Harry getting out of the car and opening the back door to kiss Noah and then lean over to get a kiss from Sadie. "Do you really have to go, daddy?" Sadie asks. "Can you come home with us instead?"

Harry bites his cheek. "It's just for a few more days, strawberry. I'll be back soon and then we'll go swimming, we'll do our nails, we'll do yoga _and_ we will bake something yummy, okay?"

"Okay, daddy," Sadie says, her voice sad. "I know you have to eat lots of vegetables and get healthy, like I did in winter when I had a cold."

"Exactly, sweetie," Harry smiles, but it takes an effort. "I'll see you soon, okay? Maybe I'll call dad tonight after dinner and give you goodnight."

Sadie cheers up a little. "Okay, daddy. Bye-bye until dinner."

"I love you, strawberry," Harry says, his hand already on the door.

"I love you too," but Sadie doesn't even look up from her iPad now. Right, screentime. That's a thing Harry remembers. That'll have to be tweaked.

Zayn's leaning against the fence, his arms crossed. When their eyes meet, he smiles a little. "It was good, yeah?"

"It was amazing," Harry breathes out, looking back at the car with Noah dozing off and Sadie playing games. "I just want to be back home with them."

"I know," Zayn says. "Soon, hopefully."

"Yeah," Harry lets out a deep breath. "Hopefully." He's not confident enough in his recovery to make timelines and promises. But, fuck, he just wants to grab his things and get back into the car with his children and his husband and drive back home to _their_ house where there must be family photos on the staircase wall and the kids have their rooms. There's a bed he shares with someone he knows he loves and has loved for seven years now. A house that's filled with memories, majority of which still avoid Harry's memory but perhaps could appear again. Even if not, there are new memories to be made. More birthdays parties, more scraped knees, more family holidays. It's not hopeless.

"If you want to call like you said, Sadie's bedtime is 8.30," Zayn says. "So, I'll see you soon then?"

"Yeah," Harry nods. He wants to do something. Hug Zayn or ideally kiss him, as he's wanted to since he first saw him today. But Zayn just gives him a polite, close-lipped smile you would give a stranger you nearly ran into in the street and gets back into the car.

Harry watches the car drive away and with it, the three people he loves the most in the world.

xxx

The front door closes behind Harry and he leans against it with a sigh, closing his eyes. He's starting to understand, why he is who he is, in spite of forgetting it. Somewhere in a different part of London, there is a home that Harry yearns for. He can't quite remember its address or the layout of it. Hell, he doesn't have more than a blurry image of the bed he used to spend every night in. None of it matters, not after today. Harry just wants his family back.

"How was your date, playboy?"

Harry's suddenly alert, opening his eyes. "Gemma?" And indeed, his sister is slowly waving at him with her fingers from the doorway to the living room.

"It's so good you forgot seven years of blackmail you had on me," Gemma quips as she meets Harry in the middle of the hallway and pulls him into a hug. "I was worried sick," she says in a quieter voice. "I really couldn't get here sooner, I tried. I thought you were dead when mum first called me. Are you okay now?"

"I'm fine," Harry sighs and pulls away. He pulls her gently towards the living room. "As fine as I can be in this situation." He plops down on the couch, Gemma joining him. "I was with the kids for a bit today. They've just gone home."

Gemma doesn't retort right away. She chews on her lips, her eyes flicking over Harry's face. She's picking the right thing to say. There isn't one here. "Has it helped?"

"A little," Harry nods. He cards his fingers through his hair, pulling a little. He might grow his hair out again. "In terms of like, my memory, I didn't have an epiphany. I didn't magically regain all my memories. But... I finally felt all the love I have for them. I still don't remember much but holding Noah and Sadie again, I just- I don't remember feeling like that before. Just overpowering love. I never wanted to let them go."

Gemma smiles wistfully. "You adore them. So much. I know mum has said many times that she loves us to death but I never really took it seriously until I saw you with Sadie. She was this tiny little thing and you truly didn't care about anything else but her. I'm glad at least this came back to you."

"Yeah," Harry says. "I've just, a lot of worries. If I can be a competent father anytime soon. Because I truly don't remember things like, what they eat normally, their bedtimes, all that."

"You'll figure it out, don't worry," Gemma says. "How was Zayn?"

Harry rubs his forehead. "Uh, I don't know? We were fine, I think."

"What does that mean?" Gemma frowns. "Fine. That means a lot of things."

"He's just," Harry huffs out a breath. "A bit distant. Like I was a stranger or something. Or an acquaintance at most."

"Yeah, sounds like him," Gemma comments. "What do you remember about your marriage?"

"Not much," Harry admits shamefully. "But I remember everything from the time we started dating. So I'm really fucking confused because, at the same time, my brain is telling me that I should like, impress him with a splendid blowjob and also that he's my husband and we're supposed to be raising our two small children together. It's messy because I literally have a crush on my _husband_ now. And he's keeping himself away from me. Like, he didn't even hug me when he was leaving."

"Give him time," Gemma shrugs. "For once in your life, wait Haz. When you decided to get married, you were the one to suggest it. Of course, Zayn was head over heels in love with you and would never say no. Just as he didn't say no when you one day were like, oh wait, I want a baby."

"Do you think he'll still want me?" Harry asks. He starts chewing on his bottom lip. "Even if I can't remember things that are important to us."

"I can't read his mind," Gemma says. A moment later, she takes a breath like she's going to speak but instead, he gets off the couch. Harry watcher her with a frown but Gemma's back right away along with a book from the bookshelf. "I think this will help you understand your marriage better than through photos and stuff." She hands the book to Harry and his jaw falls open when he sees it was written by Zayn.

"What?" Harry breathes out. "When did he write this?"

"When he did his PhD," Gemma answers. "So basically when Sadie was around a year old."

"What's it about?" Harry asks, turning the medium-sized sunflower yellow paperback in his hands.

"It's a novel," Gemma replies. "It's short stories. Most of them have a bit of your relationship in them. It's actually pretty fucking brilliant. I'm sure he's gonna tell you about it, or you'll remember, but his PhD dissertation was a bit ambitious and his advisor warned him it had a bit too much of a creative writing vibe but he pulled it off. This is the accompanying piece for it. Something about how it's better to analyze short stories by the same author as a connected anthology, like, dunno, American Horror Story, and not completely separate pieces. Of course not like the plot is connected but, I don't know, obviously I'm shit at analyzing literature."

"I wish I didn't have to do this," Harry sighs. "Learn about the relationship I have with my husband through a book he wrote. I just want to be back home. But I can't be."

"Give it a bit of time," Gemma nudges him with her elbow, smiling. "You've been remembering things, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Then don't worry," she puts her hand on his knee. "You wooed the pants off Zayn once, you can do it again. Besides, you have two children you both love more than anything. Sadie and Noah connected you even more than just your relationship. Seriously, after you already had Sadie, you two became like fucking Siamese twins. I felt like you both dropped 'I' from your vocabulary because everything was just 'we, we, we'. It was sickening."

"Fine, I'll read the book," Harry smiles a little. "I'll do it tonight. Then I'm gonna dig through my iCloud and Instagram from before we had kids."

"Great plan," Gemma agrees. "Now let's go make something before mum gets back from Emily's. I'm starving. Airplane food is _the worst._ "

Harry laughs. So Gemma hasn't changed much in the seven years that have vanished from him.

xxx

When it gets dark, Anne leaves Gemma and Harry alone downstairs, to catch up and what not. Gemma immediately sees it as an opportunity to bring out some alcohol as if they were rowdy teenagers again. Because of the medication Harry has to take after the accident, he can't drink so they make raspberry lemonade and Gemma spikes her glass with a bit of vodka. They settle down on the patio without any lights on. Evie's purring in Harry's lap as she sleeps.

"Why did I take Zayn's last name when we got married?" Harry asks her once he's tired of recounting what he remembers and what he doesn't.

"Oh ho, that one was good," Gemma laughs. "You thought it was romantic. He suggested hyphenating your names but you were adamant that you wanted to take his name. But first, you made me promise that when I get married and have kids, I'm gonna keep my last name."

"Really?" Harry furrows his brows. "Why?"

"Dunno, probably something about gender roles," Gemma shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. "I don't mind, we gotta continue the name somehow, yeah? What can I do when my baby brother is a bloody romantic who lives in a Rosamunde Pilcher novel?"

"Oh, c'mon," Harry goes to lightly kick her. Evie makes a sound in protest at the movement. "Sorry," Harry whispers to the cat and pets her. "It's kinda nice, actually."

"Changing all your uni paperwork when you were doing your masters wasn't nice," Gemma scoffs. "Everyone assumed you married like, an old rich bloke and then when they found out you married someone your age who was also a student they just thought you were mad."

"Why is love _mad_?" Harry exclaims. "So we got married young. We still aren't divorced and we have two children. And with as much as my fucked up brain allows me to remember, I can conclude that we don't hate each other. Well, at least we didn't. I've no clue how Zayn actually feels about me now."

Gemma rolls her eyes and Harry can see it even in the dark. "I would smack your head but I'm scared you'll get another bound of amnesia but consider this a spiritual smack."

"Noted," Harry chuckles. "I think I remember someone you dated or still date. A guy called... Luke? I think. There were some photos from a night out on my Instagram."

"Oh yeah," Gemma nods. "We're still together. It's going fine, I'd say. Certainly one of my longer relationships."

"Can I hear the wedding bells ringing?" Harry teases.

"Uh," Gemma hums and puts her drink on the table. "I'm not much into matrimony. Divorce is expensive." She yaws, rubbing her hands over her face. "If we settle down one day, that's great. If we don't, life goes on. I'm happy either way. I'm not... tethered to him. I don't think I'll ever have the kind of a relationship you and Zayn have where you'd ideally breathe the same air. I like my space, like Evie does." Gemma nods her head at Evie in Harry's lap, who's trying to slide out from underneath his hand in the weird way cats do where they appear three times longer than usual. "And I'm knackered. Long flight. So I'll be going." Gemma smacks a kiss on Harry's cheek when she stands up. "Read the book. And don't freak out, everything will be fine."

Harry's left sitting there alone in the dark then. Even Evie has abandoned him and joined the other two cats in the living room. The warm summer night is too enticing to just leave behind so Harry bites the bullet and ventures into the living room for Zayn's book. He turns on two lamps inside that will provide him with enough light to read yet keep the mosquitos and other pests away. With the paperback in hand, Harry sits on the patio two-seater with his knees drawn to his chest and begins reading.

The first stab into his heart is the dedication itself. ' _To Harry and Sadie. Life is so much brighter when you live with two of the most radiant rays of sunshine.'_ It's enough to bring him to tears again but Harry's determined not to cry like a baby this time. So he starts reading.

There are eight short stories in total, at least that's what the content page tells him. The first one is easy enough, a seemingly short detective story with all the archetypes of the genre. That was the point of it. The next one is a funny absurd story with a talking dog. Another one is a horror set in an abandoned hotel. But it's the fourth one that makes Harry cry again.

Arguably, it's a cliché romantic story about falling in love so quickly you want to laugh at it. But Harry doesn't laugh, he's constantly on the verge of tears because he can see his own relationship within it. He could in each and every one of them. A little piece that felt familiar, that so desperately tried to find a link in Harry's dilapidated memory. The love is jumping up at him from the pages and Harry just wants to hide.

And Gemma was right. Harry hasn't even finished the book yet the picture's being repainted in his mind with every passing minute. The way Zayn uses words, how all the depictions of love in the book are somehow connected to their relationship. Being presented with the fact that Harry's experienced the love that most think exists only in art is baffling. He can't even remember much of it but having the knowledge that Harry married someone, who on his own is brilliant and breathtaking, that loves him _so fucking much_ makes him want to believe that everything will be fine in the end. Because a love like this can't go away, can it?

As Harry reads the last lines of the fourth story and it eludes to the protagonists of the story having a baby girl, his initial amelioration and respite in the heartbreak is gone because Harry realizes he _forgot to call Sadie_. He fucking promised Sadie he would call her before her bedtime and he didn't. He was having a grand bloody time with Gemma and his mum and he forgot about his daughter, his little girl that can't wait for him to be back home. And Harry knows then he's not coming back anytime soon. Now he forgot to call her but what if he comes home and forgets to fucking feed her? Or forgets _her_ somewhere?

He doesn't even muster up the strength to cry. Hollow, defeated, that's how Harry feels. He was trying so fucking hard to get better. And he thought he did. He did! Sadie and Noah were so happy to see him today and the feeling of holding them was unlike anything Harry's experienced in the 21 years of his life he remembers well. He loves them, he does. But everything he's learned since they came into his life is gone. It took time to learn how to be a father and only a second was needed to make it all vanish.

Harry takes a deep, shaky breath and pulls out his phone. It's late so obviously, he can't talk to Sadie now. But perhaps he can talk to Zayn at least. He needs to apologize. That is the bare minimum he can do.

'I'm so sorry for not calling tonight," Harry texts him. 'Gemma came back and we were catching up and it completely slipped my mind. I can call her in the morning?'

He doesn't really expect a reply. If the roles were reversed, Harry probably would've already been swearing up a storm and throwing a fit. How fucking hard is it to remember to make one bloody phone call? But the reply comes nearly instantly, the speech bubbles popping up on iMessage before Harry even exists the app.

' _It's okay, she went to bed earlier than usual today. She was knackered after camp so you wouldn't have talked to her either way.'_

Harry wonders if he should be relived because he definitely isn't. He forgot. That's it.

'Okay but still. I promised I would. At least we could've talked.'

' _We're talking now, aren't we? :)'_

Oh? Is that sarcastic? Harry's at a loss but he needs to keep Zayn talking. He just fucking wants to talk to his husband.

'I guess, yeah :)' A moment later, Harry thinks, fuck it, and double texts. 'I was reading your book tonight. Got through the first four stories.'

' _Really? How did you get to it?'_

'Gemma gave it to me. She said it would help me understand our relationship.'

' _And did it?'_

Harry sighs. Did it? Probably, yes. But it doesn't mean shit if Harry keeps fucking up and there is no actual progress in his recovery.

'I think so. All the... love aspects? (I guess) were inspired by us, weren't they? Some things connected.'

' _Yeah. It was subconscious too. I just couldn't get you off my mind anytime I were to think about romance in any capacity.'_

 _'_ That's romantic :)' Wow, bravo Harry, that's incredible flirting.

' _You thought so back then too :) I thought I was obnoxious.'_

'Maybe obnoxiously fit and amazing.' Okay, better now. 'I'd like to see you again soon. Today was really good.'

' _Yeah, of course. Sadie was really happy. She already picked the nail polish she wants you to use on her nails when you get back.'_ Before Harry can reply, Zayn's writing again. ' _I think Paul misses you too. Today he was just wandering around the house meowing after the kids went to bed. Now he's sleeping on your pillow.'_

Harry laughs quietly. 'I really need to get back then haha'

' _Whenever you feel like you could handle it, we're all ready for you to come back home.'_

Harry closes his eyes. He lets the phone fall on the seat underneath him before he rubs his face. He's not ready yet. Not if he wants to come back as Sadie and Noah's dad and not a fumbling mess. He can't risk it.

' _I was wary about how the kids would handle everything.'_ Zayn texts him. ' _But they're doing really good. I mean you're the therapist, I don't know what possible effect this situation could have on them so it's really your call. Just as a parent, I think the kids just want you to be back home no matter what.'_

Harry wipes up the dampness underneath his right eye with the tips of his fingers. Yeah, he's the therapist but now _he_ needs therapy. Loads of it probably.

'I'm really glad to hear that. But I don't think I'm there just yet. I love them so much, I do. But I can't risk fucking this up.'

' _That's okay. I do understand.'_

'Thank you. You have no idea how much this all means to me.'

' _You would've done the same babe.'_

'Probably. But still. Thank you.'

xxx

Zayn never texted back last night after that and Harry's not sure if it was the awkward tone of the conversation or he just fell asleep. Regardless of that, Harry just didn't have the stomach to continue with the book so he found himself reading something else instead, upstairs in his old bedroom - his masters' thesis.

It was pretty long and Harry probably shouldn't have strained his eyes and brain by staying up late finishing it but something good came out of it. He remembered most of it, not specifically writing it but as he was reading it, it all made sense and it felt familiar. Even more curiously, he usually knew what was coming up and also knew what the conclusion would be. Harry's not sure if it's because his brain usually thinks he's just finished his bachelor degree and knows a thing or two about psychology or if he actually did remember. Given that, he still doesn't particularly care because this brings him a step closer to being able to practise again and go back to work.

In the morning, Harry decides to call his receptionist, Freddie and ask about a therapist for himself. He's been told, as well as remembered bits and pieces, that he works at sort of a clinic that has psychologists and other mental health professionals for various needs. Harry himself is a part of the group that deals with people in their late teens and early 20's. Freddie directs him to Dr Brown, who has her office in a different building than the one Harry has his office in and apparently, they don't know each other so it won't be awkward. Since they are technically colleagues, Harry calls her right away and schedules an appointment that's about in a week and a half. He briefly outlined whatever's been happening and that he does have a specialist at the hospital he will have to see a few times and she didn't deem it dire enough to have him come in immediately since he's been able to regain memories and things are still coming back to him steadily. That's good, Harry supposes.

Niall calls him around midday and they talk for maybe an hour. He makes Harry laugh like always and tells him some bits and pieces about those long seven years Harry will never remember fully again. Most likely. After that chat with Niall, Harry feels encouraged enough to finally text back to his "new" friends more than a thank you for their concern. But he's not confident enough to call them. Most people prefer texts anyway in this day and age. He talks to Sarah and Adam for a bit and with the few memories Harry does have, it's pretty easy to keep the conversation fluid enough.

He spends the majority of the day finishing Zayn's book, effectively torturing himself with it and going through photos in his phone and on Instagram from before they had Sadie and Noah. Harry wants to remember why they fell in love as deeply and strongly as they did. He's trying to dissect his relationship, essentially. And soon, he will ask Zayn about it too but every time Harry asked something regarding just them, their marriage, it was as if he had a hammer in his hand and was shattering the trust and love between them with every word. He can't let that happen.

Between all that, he manages to call Zayn and arrange an outing to the park with Sadie and Noah for tomorrow. Sadie's distracted by Paul and doesn't talk to him for too long, and Noah just squeals for two minutes and that's a conversation alright. Harry feels like a stranger when the call ends, like an outsider trying to peep into a loving family. All in due time, he tells himself, all in due time.

Harry's already treacherous brain betrays him again that night. What else could Harry _possibly_ need right now but a wet dream about his bloody husband? It's probably a memory but Harry can't be sure and he may or may not be too embarrassed to _ever_ ask Zayn about it. The dream was all passion and deep kisses and uncut desperation. Intense and hot, with Zayn fucking him from behind, the sound of the bed hitting the wall ringing in his ears.

Unsurprisingly, Harry wakes up hard and panting, his wet cock trapped inside his boxers like a prisoner of war. He glances at the clock on the nightstand, seeing that Zayn is coming to pick him up in less than two hours to go out with the kids. Is this a good time to wank? He decides against it.

So, a cold shower, wasn't it? That's what Harry recalls as the trick for getting rid of a hard-on. But when he gets into the bathroom, the idea of a freezing fucking shower makes Harry want to run away into the mild heat outside. He does get into the shower somewhat determined not to wank. But he's only a human and his red, angry cock begging to be noticed is very hard to ignore. So Harry wraps a hand around himself, closing his eyes and trying to recall all those nights from their beginnings. If he's going to wank to his husband, he might as well be sure he's wanking to a memory and not a fucking dream. He's not 14 anymore, even if he's back at his mum's house and trying to be as quiet as possible.

It's good, it's so fucking good even if he wishes his own hand was Zayn's. Harry doesn't really know when they last had sex but he remembers fucking on their trip to the coast without the kids so it hasn't been that long. He doesn't know how often do they normally have sex, if it's planned or not, if they have the time to be spontaneous with two little kids in the house.

Harry comes embarrassingly quickly because the mere idea of kissing Zayn again is making him hot and bothered like it's his first time and he's gonna cream his pants five minutes into snogging. Since Harry's accident, they've scarcely touched. After the coffee "date", Zayn didn't even hug him. Therefore, it's safe to say Harry is desperate for _anything._ He _would_ probably cream his pants if Zayn kissed him. He'd definitely at least get hard.

His mind is clearer and less sex-oriented by the time Zayn comes to pick him up with the kids. But Harry's wardrobe made him struggle once again. He ended up with the same jeans, Vans but this time a striped t-shirt with some buttons in the front completed his look. And it's not so terrible this time. Vans are much better for summer than the boots he used to wear all year round.

Harry's waiting for Zayn and the kids outside, squinting into the sun because the only pair of sunglasses he could find in his room were some cheap plastic ones probably from a magazine. As soon as the car pulls to the curb, Harry heads for the back door.

"Hiya, angels," Harry greets the kids, kissing Sadie who's on his side and ruffling Noah's hair. "Hi, babe." When his eyes meet Zayn's, Zayn seems mildly amused and definitely surprised at the pet name. But Harry's determined to try today. He wants his family back and he doesn't want to disappoint them or ruin everything. Baby steps. That's the key to success.

"Hi, love," Zayn says. "You're in a good mood today."

"Had a good morning," Harry grins as he gets into the passenger seat. "I was excited to see you all."

Zayn eyes him suspiciously. "You look like you're plotting something."

"I'm not," Harry shrugs as he watches Zayn drive. "Where are we headed?"

"This nice park not far from here," Zayn replies. "The kids always come here if they're staying with your mum for the night."

"Oh, is it the one where I used to go as a kid?" Harry wonders.

"Nope," Zayn shakes his head a little. "This one is new, there's like a fancy playground there and a gourmet dessert shop. Bit pretentious if you ask me but this is London and it's actually nice."

Harry hums. "Hold on," he turns to the kids because the silence from them is questionable. Noah's flipping through a picture book with those thick pages and Sadie's on her iPad again. "Sadie, darling, how much time do you spend on that iPad of yours?"

Sadie looks up at Harry. "Not too much," and then she's back in the electronic world.

"I'm probably gonna sound really stupid," Harry turns to Zayn. "But doesn't she have like, allotted screentime or something?"

"She does," Zayn agrees and smiles at Harry. "It's usually only for the car. She gets antsy."

Harry blushes a little. "Oh, okay. I didn't know. I've lately only spent time with her in the car and she was always on it, not even looking up."

"It's fine, babe," Zayn dismisses it. "You read books with her at home normally, or you used to. She really likes them and asks for them herself. But for like, flights and car rides, the iPad's great because she really doesn't like travelling. She doesn't get sick or anything, just really antsy and a bit anxious. You installed some like, educational games for her, alongside just genuine time-killers so she's not straining her eyes for nothing."

Harry doesn't say anything to it. Just reminds him how fucking useless as a parent he is. The shame about the morning hits him then as well. Marriage isn't only about fucking and he should write that on his fucking forehead. Just because he's attracted to his husband doesn't mean he deserves to have him back. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose. This is a fucking mess.

"Are you okay?"

Harry opens his eyes, putting on a weak smile for Zayn. "Yeah, course. Just thinking."

"Don't beat yourself up, Haz-"

"Dad, we're here!"

"Oh, shit," Zayn curses quietly and nearly stops the car. "I almost missed the park. Thank you, Sadie. What would I ever do without you?"

"You wouldn't go to the park," Sadie replies like the smart girl she is. Harry smiles sadly. He helped raise her to be this brilliant, intelligent, kind little girl yet he barely remembers anything from it. And it fucking hurts.

Harry helps Zayn take the stuff from the boot of the car. It's only a blanket, a picnic basket and a diaper bag for Noah but Harry's exhausted from being so useless. The least he can do is set up a bloody picnic he didn't even prepare.

They settle down underneath a tree not too far from the playground yet far enough that they will hear each other speak over the excited screams and squeals of children. Harry's a bit out of place, standing at the edge of the blanket, watching his own family to figure out what to do next. Before it gets weird, he sits down and waits while the kids chatter in their own worlds and languages.

"What, um," Harry starts, his brows furrowed. "What do we do here usually?"

"Just normal stuff," Zayn shrugs as he hands Noah a few toys from the diaper bag. "They play at the playground. We read to them. You create all these games for them. When they're off playing, you often read. But Sadie really likes to dance, don't you baby?"

Sadie nods enthusiastically. "I do ballet, daddy. I'm sooo good. Can I show you?"

"Of course, strawberry," Harry smiles at her. At least her nickname always comes to him easily.

"Can you play me some music, daddy?" Sadie asks as she stands up and takes her teeny tiny Converse off. Harry looks at Zayn in a mild panic but Zayn just smiles and says, "There's a playlist." And indeed, when Harry opens the Music app on his phone, he finds a playlist titled 'Sadie's dance music'. He hits shuffle and some strange music you'd heard in the background of a dance competition starts playing. It's probably what they use at classes because this is far from the classical music you'd actually perform a ballet to.

Sadie starts off with something that looks like a routine, describing which move is which. Harry encourages her, tells her how well she's doing and 'wow's where it seems appropriate. After a while, Sadie starts just jumping around to the music and eventually she pulls Noah up to join her. Harry starts laughing at the sight, his chest going warm as he watched Sadie hold Noah's hands and attempt to get him to dance. Noah, at his all two years of age, mostly giggles and wiggles around. His sheer joy, the laughter of the kids, it's music to Harry's ears and he can't believe he has to miss this. They're so _happy_ and Harry's so overwhelmed by love for them he can barely see anything past Sadie and Noah. It's just them in the whole world and nothing else.

After a while, Sadie lets go off Noah and takes a courtsey. Harry and Zayn clap and cheer on her like she just graduated from Julliard. "I'm thirsty," she announces and walks the few steps to the picnic blanket. Without thinking, Harry grabs a juice box for her from the picnic basket. Sadie takes it and plops down in Harry's lap, sipping on the straw right away.

"You were so good, baby," Harry gushes and kisses Sadie's hair. He hugs her with both arms and Sadie rests her head against his chest. Noah stops dancing too and promptly plops down on the blanket. He grabs a dino figurine and starts chewing on it between actually playing with it.

"Thank you, daddy," Sadie says. "I'm gonna be in a bigger group in September. I'm starting school. Did you know I'm gonna be five in November?"

Harry swallows thickly. It's depressing that his daughter is talking to him the way she would to a stranger, or someone who didn't know everything about her life. And Harry should know it, he fucking should. "I did know that, strawberry. You're a big girl, aren't you?"

"Mhm," Sadie nods, the straw between her lips. "But you said I'm gonna be the youngest at school. My birthday is in November so everyone will be five but I will be four in September."

"There's nothing wrong with that, is it?" Harry asks her, brushing her hair out of your face. "Dad and I just want you to be even smarter than you already are, darling. You will learn so many things and have so many new friends. I think it's gonna be exciting. Don't you?"

"I guess," Sadie shrugs while biting the straw. She then chucks the empty box on the blanket. "Can I go play now?"

Harry looks over at Zayn, who has been playing with Noah and his dinos in the meantime. "Of course you can but you have to wave at us every few minutes, okay?" Zayn says. Sadie nods enthusiastically and off she goes running towards the playground.

"I brought you your journals," Zayn says once Sadie has safely arrived at the playground a couple of meters away. She's still in their line of sight and there's plenty of parents around so Harry figures he shouldn't freak out.

"Really?" Harry's interest has perked up. "Can I see them?"

"Sure, they're in the diaper bag," Zayn says as lets Noah climb into his lap. Noah promptly starts pulling at his hair but it doesn't seem to bother him.

Harry takes the journals out. They're two nearly identical brown leather-bound journals. But he immediately knows which one is which. The personal one is more tattered and has some writing on the spine, while the work one is nice and neat, showing almost no signs of wear.

Noah makes a noise then and Harry lists his head, alerted by the sound of distress. "He's sleepy," Zayn offers as an explanation. He puts Noah on the blanket to lay down like he did when he stopped dancing but now he puts a folded up sweater, presumably Sadie's, underneath his head as a pillow. "He barely slept through the night. He's been a horrible sleeper lately."

Harry only nods. He guesses this most likely has something to do with the fact that he isn't home. Sadie's older so she understands it more but Noah can't possibly get why his daddy isn't there to put him to bed and come to him if he cries at night. Harry simply _isn't there_ and that is all that Noah understands.

Harry clears his throat. "What's all this about then?" he asks as he opens the personal journal. The last entry is from when they presumably got back from the coast. There's one polaroid of Zayn smoking on the balcony, only his naked back visible. "You still smoke?" Harry wonders. He could swear he remembered that Zayn stopped after they had kids.

Zayn chuckles. He's closer to Harry now, so close he can feel his body heat. "No, not cigarettes. We smoke weed together sometimes. It's only on rare occasions now."

"Oh," Harry lets out a small laugh. "Look at us, being all rebellious and shit."

" _Very_ , very rare occasions, Haz," Zayn laughs. "But we do drink quite a bit of wine. I live in fear that one day I'll come home and you've bought one of those god-awful signs about wine that those middle-aged mums on Facebook are obsessed with. Or you know, those water bottles that say some crap like 'I'd rather be drinking prosecco'."

Harry shakes his head, laughing. "God, I would never. I promise you my brain's all kinds of screwed up right now but I'll never be one of those people."

"Thank god, because otherwise, I'd have to fake my death and flee the country," Zayn chuckles. "You wanna know which my favourite one is?" he nods at the journal.

"Of course," Harry says eagerly, showing the journal into Zayn's hand. He waits as Zayn flips through the pages, watching him. Zayn is quite slow with it, looking over the pages, smiling at some pictures and tickets and whatnot. Harry's heart tugs and he wants to ask a million questions, or a billion, as much questions as it would take for him to get back to his previous self, at least superficially so he can get his life back, so he can be a good father again, so he can fall asleep at night with his husband at his side.

"This one," Zayn says after a while, handing the journal back over to Harry. It ends up being a polaroid of Harry himself, laughing while covering his face with his hands. His hair is still long in the photo, splayed against a white pillow. He's shirtless, or more likely naked, and there is only one ring on his fingers - his wedding ring. When Harry looks at the date, it starts to make more sense. "This is our wedding night," Harry breathes out. He starts reading the entry: ' _Today I married the love of my life and I have zero regrets, even if the love of my life is an annoying little shit who keeps kissing my shoulder as I'm trying to write this. I don't think it's possible to describe how happy I am. We've got shit for doing this because I guess this is what happens when you get married at 22. But today has been the best day of my life so far. I'm sure that's going to change as our life goes on and on and on and even better things happen. We'll have more happy memories. We'll have kids. Omg!! We'll have kids one day. Crazy how things just happen. Like, boom, we said a few things, signed a couple of papers and now we are legally bound to each other. It feels fucking awesome tho. I don't like to put photos of just myself in here but Z took this and I think it's a good representation of how fucking happy we are right now. I've no clue when we're gonna look at this again and who else will read this but I can say with a clear conscience that I've never been happier. So here's to many more years of happiness, love and really good sex!'._

A tear drops on the shiny surface of the polaroid. Harry doesn't lift his head up, doesn't wipe the salty tears away. He remembers bits and pieces. Shaky hands sliding rings on. Messy kisses with their teeth clashing because they couldn't stop smiling. The sound of a camera going off and warm laughter. Tenderness and passion and promises of forever meant only for the two of them to hear. Is forever still a viable option?

"Haz," Zayn says softly. His hand is warm, low on Harry's back. If his heart wasn't breaking, Harry would tremble with anticipation. "Haz, please, look at me." Harry reluctantly lifts his head. He doesn't bother to wipe his face. "What I wanted to say in the car," Zayn continues, "is that you need to stop beating yourself up for things that aren't your fault. You didn't go out and ask for your memory to be gone. It's _not your fault_ , babe. And yes, it's really fucking hard, with you being gone and not remembering a lot of things but you can't punish yourself for this."

Harry shakes his head. "Everything's ruined, Z. I'm as good as dead."

"Hey, don't fucking say that, H," Zayn says fiercely. His hand is a burning stone on Harry's back, a fiery poker that goes straight through his heart. "I was scared you were dead when the cops had first called me. The car had been totalled and you were in the hospital, unconscious. You've no idea how that felt. So don't you dare say that because you _are_ here. You're here and you're healthy and you're trying. It's gonna take time, yes, it's gonna take some sleepless nights of Noah crying and Sadie asking about doing your nails fifty times a day. But you're still alive, Harry and that's what matters to me."

Harry sniffs, finally brushing away the tears. "Thank you, Zayn. You truly have no idea-" _How much I love you_. But Harry doesn't say it out loud. He can't allow himself to love Zayn like that again until he's certain he can come back and be a dad again. Their marriage is so interwoven with parenthood that he can't be a husband without being a father. And as much he loves Sadie and Noah, he's not there yet. But he will be. He won't let this take his family away. "You truly have no idea how fucking incredible you are."

Zayn smiles a little, his arm now snaking around Harry's waist. "I've been told a few times."

And Harry really, really wants to kiss Zayn then. Because he's not sure how long it's been but it has certainly been too long and his heart is _aching_ for it. It goes against all the plans he's sketched out in his head but he doesn't even care because he _loves_ Zayn. He knows he does and while there's a lot missing, he also remembers enough things to know that even after seven years, they're still head over heels in love. And he might just do it. So easy, it'd be so easy to simply lean forward and-

"Daddy, I need to pee."

Harry's taken out of the passion-induced trance by Sadie's voice. Zayn's hand drops from his waist quicker than a pile of ash.

"Um," Harry frowns. "Dad will take you, strawberry," he looks over at Zayn hopefully because he has no fucking clue where the restrooms here are. Thankfully, Zayn nods at him and promptly gets up.

"Haz, get the food ready, yeah?" Zayn adds before he leaves with Sadie. Harry wants to do something funny that would hopefully make Sadie laugh, like salute him but he's left nodding dumbly like a child.

"Right," Harry says to himself and reaches for the picnic basket. There's some cut-up fruit and sandwiches, juice boxes and water. And napkins, cutlery. He takes it all out, opening up the Tupperware boxes and getting the juice boxes ready. A bee comes buzzing in, hanging around Noah's sleeping form a little too long for Harry's liking so he swooshes it away with his hand.

He goes to open his journal again and flip through it before Zayn and Sadie return when he hears that sound of distress from Noah again. The journal's promptly abandoned as Harry turns his attention to Noah, who's waking up slowly and certainly starting to cry.

"Daddy," Noah cries miserably, his eyes barely open. Harry's immediately knee-walking to him around the food. "Hey, baby, it's okay. Daddy's here," Noah looks at him with tearful eyes and reaches out for him. Harry quickly takes him into his arms, holding him against his chest and rocking him. "It's okay, sweetheart. Daddy's here, you don't have to cry, angel." Noah sniffs a little, still crying as he tucks his face into Harry's neck. His hand ends up in Harry's hair soon, at the nape of his neck. Harry grabs Noah's other hand and kisses it a bunch of times. "I love you, darling, it's okay. You don't have to cry. I'm right here, honey. I'm right here." Noah's tears are wet on the skin of Harry's neck. He keeps rocking him and shushing him. Eventually, Harry starts humming a tune, he's not even sure what it is but it seems to calm Noah down. He continues rocking him as Noah's cries die out slowly.

"Is that better, honey?" Harry asks him, looking at Noah's tear-stained face. "Do you want a snack, Noah? Hm? Do you want some blueberries?"

Noah's pouting a little. He rubs his eyes with his little fist. "Love daddy."

Harry's heart shatters. He hugs Noah as tight as he can. "Oh, I love you too, Noah. I love you so, so much. You're such a sweet boy, do you know that?" Noah wraps his short arms around Harry's neck and kisses his face wetly. Harry laughs and it's a miracle he hasn't broken down in tears yet. "Thank you, Noah, that's so kind of you." Harry kisses Noah then too and Noah giggles and screams in joy and Harry's eardrums might be suffering but Noah's not crying anymore and that's the only thing he cares about.

"Someone's up."

Harry looks up at Zayn and Sadie, a smile on his face. "Yeah, No-No woke up and got a little snotty, didn't he?" he blindly searches the diaper bag for tissues as Sadie and Zayn sit down on the blanket. First, he gently wipes Noah's face, both the tears and the snot. Then he puts the tissue on Noah's nose and tells him to blow. Noah does dutifully and Harry wipes his nose properly. "There, that's better, isn't it, love?" As he goes to throw the tissue onto the little pile of trash, he notices Zayn watching him with a soft smile. "What?" Harry asks him, chuckling a little. "Did Noah get snot on my face?"

Zayn just shakes his head, the smile not leaving his lips. "No, you're fine."

"C'mon, tell me," Harry demands. "What's wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing is wrong, babe," Zayn says, putting his hand on Harry's knee for a moment, squeezing him. "Everything's more than fine." That has to be a lie, considering that their lives have been turned upside down but Harry doesn't have the time to overthink.

"Daddy, I want cuddles too," Sadie pouts.

"Of course, strawberry," Harry says. "But we'll have a snack first, yeah? You must be hungry after such an incredible dance number and playing too."

Sadie shrugs and scoots closer towards the food. "Okay. But I want my cuddles. It's not fair if only Noah gets cuddles from you, daddy."

"I promise, baby," Harry says. Noah whines a little and outstretches his arm towards the food. Harry engages his other hand to hold him too so he doesn't topple out of his hold. "What do you want, Noah? Juice?" Noah shakes his head and says 'bubelies'. That in toddler talk must mean blueberries. Harry grabs the container with blueberries and holds them up in front of Noah. "Blueberries?" Noah screams a yes and immediately makes grabby hands for the berries. The moment he grabs them, the mess of purple begins and Harry mentally checks for the wet wipes that are certainly in the diaper bag. He forgot how messy toddlers are but Noah's so happy eating the blueberries himself that Harry doesn't have the heart to start feeding him just to keep things tidy and clean. He's a baby, babies are messy.

They all snack on some things with Sadie mostly keeping the conversation going, talking about camp and about all the things he's excited for in school. Harry feels a bit proud that his daughter is so enthusiastic about school when it's still only the middle of summer. Education is one of the most important and also amazing things a parent can help their child get. Her hunger for it only makes Harry happy and he hopes it will stay with her for a long time.

"Okay, daddy, I want cuddles," Sadie says immediately when she's done with her food. 

Harry chuckles. "Of course, strawberry. We haven't had many cuddles lately, have we?" As he goes to put Noah down on the blanket, the beginnings of a good, big cry are underway. "Noah, baby, I'm still right here, okay?" But Noah doesn't care and he whimpers, holding onto Harry's shirt.

"Noah, stop being a baby," Sadie pouts and crosses her arms. "You're not the only one who can get cuddles from daddy."

"Alright, you're too young to be fighting, Jesus Christ," Harry scoffs as he juggles Noah in his arms so he has one arm free. "Both of you can have cuddles. Daddy has two arms after all."

Sadie doesn't need to be told twice to climb into Harry's lap and he's very much swarmed in small children. Zayn grins at him, shaking his head after Harry blows a strand of hair off his forehead (mildly successfully) and Noah nearly falls out of his grasp. Harry tries to keep his smile at bay, mouthing a 'what?' at Zayn. There's too much Harry's missing and he's painfully aware of it. Inside jokes, the kids' quirks, the inner workings of their marriage. Harry simply doesn't know a thing about any of it and he might never remember. But when he has his two babies wrapped around him, happy because they're finally with their daddy again, Harry begins to believe that it truly doesn't matter.

After a few minutes, Sadie grows tired of cuddles and engages them all in a game of technically Activity. She stands in front of them, doing a pantomime of all kinds of animals and Harry and Zayn have to guess. She's tough with the point system too. Noah doesn't care about what his sister is doing, not really, and interests himself with Harry's necklaces instead, pulling on them and even trying to bite them.

A few hours later, after a lunch of crepes with too many toppings and another dance session, Harry finds himself in front of his mum's house again. The kids are asleep in the back in their car seats.

"Thank you for today," Harry turns to Zayn. "Really. I know it's hard, juggling two small kids and basically our whole life. Today was... _incredible_ and I'm sorry for taking too long but I just- I don't think I'd be good for them just yet. I had no clue what they were doing today. Sadie's dancing and her games, I didn't know a thing. I can't risk it."

Zayn smiles a little before it disappears, just this slight quirk of the corners of his lips. "You were really great with Noah today."

Harry shakes his head. "I just held him and gave him a Tupperware with blueberries."

"It's not just that," Zayn disagrees. "He woke up and started crying and asking for you, didn't he?" Harry nods slowly. "You consoled him and then you cleaned him up. You even remembered his nickname, No-No, just out of nowhere. Watching you tell him to blow his nose and wiping his face was really like this little flash of you before the accident. You just automatically took care of him, without a second thought, without giving me that anguished look, asking what to do next."

Harry tries to breathe in but his throat closes up on him. He doesn't know what to say to this because he doesn't perceive it that way. So he wiped his son's snot? That's literally bare minimum of childcare. Kids need emotional development too and Harry's at a -867 with that.

"Don't lose your mind thinking about this," Zayn's voice breaks Harry out of his thinking. Harry's heart becomes a wrung towel when his mind registers that Zayn is holding his hand. With a shuddering breath, Harry squeezes Zayn's hand like a lifeline. "It's a good thing, Haz. You're doing well."

Harry nods quickly. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I've a... I'm seeing Dr Carrey in like two days. So I guess I'll go from there?"

"That's good, yeah," Zayn smiles a little. "Text me later today? Or call Sadie if you'd like. If it's been too much on you today, you don't have to."

"No, no," Harry shakes his head. "Of course I will. You're my family. You can never be too much."

Zayn chuckles. "Oh trust me, these two can be too much." Zayn takes his hand out of Harry's grasp slowly. Harry tries not to let the disappointment in his chest take over. "So I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry smiles quickly. "I'll call you."

"Good," Zayn says and then does something that nearly makes Harry faint. He puts his right hand on Harry's jaw ever so gently and turns his head, kissing his cheek. It's chaste and fleeting but that doesn't matter to Harry's heart that's beating like a church bell at midday.

"Bye, Haz," Zayn says when he's pulled away. Harry's so shocked he doesn't even register if he says anything, probably just a weak 'bye' but when he comes to his senses, he's already standing on the pavement in front of his mum's house with the car speeding away.

To assess the situation, Harry didn't cream his pants like a 14-year-old. But he did get a semi.


	2. ii.

The day at the park with the kids left Harry with a heavy weight on his chest. He keeps turning Zayn's words round and round in his head, trying to make sense of it. Did he really do good with Noah? Is he well enough to go back? Harry's not sure.

But he knows that he _wants_ to go home. In his heart, he couldn't be more certain about wanting to wake up next to his husband every morning, to play with his kids. To do all those things Sadie was excited about. To be there for Noah when he wakes up in the middle of the night crying out for him.

It's not easy, it's really fucking far from easy in fact and that's why Harry decides to wait. At least until his appointment with Dr Carrey. She'll assess his situation, his recovery. Harry still hasn't accepted that he might never get all his memories back. Thinking about it is like jumping into a pool full of barbed wire, Suspiria-style. How is he supposed to live on his life when he can't remember when he and the love of his life said 'I love you' for the first time? How can he go on when he can't recall Sadie's first words and Noah's first steps?

That is why Harry decides to work on his memory, intensively. He pulls up his journals, iCloud and all his social media, right when he gets back from the park. He asks his mum for an empty notebook and he starts documenting things, starting with when he and Zayn first began sleeping together. He doesn't do a full timeline, just writes down bits and pieces that he remembers.

The first few months are pretty clear, Harry thinks. It has been seven years so the memories wouldn't have been terribly clear no matter what. He knows the basics - they started sleeping together, Harry fell head-over-heels in love and then they moved in together as they both started doing their masters. Things have come to Harry over the days since he'd woken up. It's just the matter of putting it all together like a really difficult 5000-piece puzzle.

He also makes a list, mostly with questions that he needs to ask, about aspects of his life that still remain muddy. Harry knows he will need to swallow his pride and ask Zayn about the very elemental things about their children. Their favourite toys, games, food, songs, colours, all those details that still elude Harry. He could ask the kids themselves but he isn't sure it would end well. Children throw tantrums about everything and the last thing he wants is to lose their trust. He _could_ theoretically come up with a game where he would get that information but he'll deal with that later.

After two uneventful days full of doing an inventory on his life, Harry visits Dr Carrey. He goes with his mum because the appointment is just around the time when the kids are due to be picked up from camp and the last thing he wants is to complicate Zayn's life even more than he already has. Understandably, he's nervous and anxious and really fucking scared but it's necessary. God forbid he takes this too lightly and fucks up his brain irreparably.

And all his stress was pretty much unfounded because Dr Carrey is ecstatic at his progress. She had feared that his memory would be gone forever and apparently, what he's already gained back is more than she'd ever expected he would be able to retrieve. Which sounds pretty promising and encouraging. It's not enough for Harry, not nearly because it's easy for her to say that, she isn't the one with her life half gone.

Back at his mum's house, Harry starts reading his journal, post by post. He doesn't start crying, which he thinks earns him a figurative pat on the back. He's been a mess but it's getting better. Once he started calling the kids every evening and regularly texting with Zayn and his friends too, he hasn't been getting overwhelmed by emotions to the point where all he could do was break down and sob. Niall calls him every day on his lunch break, he's apparently a music teacher now but he does sing in pubs sometimes which Harry thinks is absolutely amazing. Jeff also FaceTimes him from the ever-sunny LA and not much has changed with them. Slowly, Harry regains his friendships with relatively new people too, at least for his brain. He talks to Sarah and Mitch and Adam too and they don't feel like strangers. He promises them that once he's back home and working, they'll meet up for a pint.

The journal is the best at giving Harry a semblance of what his life looked like, what his state of mind was. He wrote all of it, and it wasn't curated nicely for social media. His journal is uncensored, unabridged, mostly just for him to see. There are photos that are verging on erotic and then again photos that are vulnerable.

Harry starts off with the first post after his breakup with Xander. It's a photo of a bench in a tiny park near his uni flat where he and Xander first kissed. ' _So this is over. Xander broke up with me. The dickhead even had the audacity to cheat on me, all because I was too busy working on my thesis to fuck him. I've been drowning my sorrows in lots of alcohol and sex with a man so fucking hot I wonder what I even found attractive in Xander. Note to self: casual sex is the way to go. Don't fall in love, arsehole. It never ends well.'_ Harry smiles at that.

Then there is a festival ticket, a polaroid of Niall with his hair dyed like the Irish flag, a ticket to a concert and then in September 2015, there are two polaroids - one of an empty flat full of boxes and another one of Zayn with his back to the camera, seemingly cooking in the kitchen of their new flat. The entry is quite long: ' _So, jokes on me a few months ago. I did fall in love. Funny that. I haven't written about Zayn here, not really. I was wary. I wrote fucking odes about Xander and then it all went to shit and it's gonna be here forever. I didn't think this thing with Z would go anywhere, not really. We were sleeping together at first, just that and nothing more but then... I couldn't hold back any longer and I found myself drawn to him. We barely spent any time apart this summer. It was full of exploring cafés and cool places around London. There were shows and music festivals and some film festivals. Just lots of drinking with friends and having a good time. But around all that, I managed to fall in love with Zayn, irreversibly and tragically. I know that's dramatic but fuck it, I'm 21 I can be dramatic about falling in love. If I get my heart broken again, so be it. // In those polaroids, there's our new flat. Our leases were up and we both knew we were in love so why not move in together? We were already sleeping over at one another's places all the time so why not? It's been like three weeks and everything's great. Everyone said we would start fighting but we haven't been, not really. Well, there was one fight, when I wanted a schedule for like taking out the trash and cleaning and Z wanted to just do it as needed but it wasn't bad or anything lol. I hope I don't sound ridiculous but I could imagine us like this forever. It's foolish maybe, to be thinking about forever after a few months but you just have a feeling. My mum always said that when she was marrying my dad it just didn't feel right. But she also doesn't regret it because she has me and Gemma and obvi, who would regret having such great kids as us? Anyway, back to my love life. Jesus fuck, I sound like fucking Carrie Bradshaw. I bloody hope Zayn isn't my Big because I'm too lazy to go around running after him. So far, he hasn't shown any commitment issues like Big has so we're fine. It's weird. When I'm with him I just want forever. I never really wanted to get married or have kids. But my mind's not so made up about that anymore. I guess you just really have to find the right person. I hope he's my right person because whatever's going on right on, it feels really fucking good. (Not just the sex, obvi but cheesy shit like making dinner together and binging Netflix at night. It's so good.) Okay, well, that was a lot. Hope I won't eat my words in a few months when we break up.'_

Well, they certainly didn't break up because most of the entries following that were about their relationship. Harry learns that they were really free-falling, both head over heels in love and they didn't really care about anything else. The entry from just after Zayn's birthday is the rare selfie of them, both grinning into a kiss. ' _So apparently we're batshit crazy because we're getting married. Yup, we haven't finished our masters yet but who cares? We're in love, we're sure we want this to last forever so let's put a bloody ring on it. Niall said we're insane, mum is a bit upset that we're doing this so early but all is well. We wanna do it at the end of March when Easter break starts. Here's to not getting a fucking divorce!'_

There was no divorce, and Harry hopes there won't be one in the future either. It's pretty clear they weren't slowing down anytime soon because a few entries later, there's a photo of Sadie. And that is when Harry's heart starts beating so fast he thinks he's having a heart attack. It's a simple polaroid of her in her crib, sleeping in a white onesie with daisies on it. ' _We brought our baby home today. This is Sadie. She's sleeping right now and thankfully, she didn't wake up when I took the photo but still, I'm so fucking exhausted I'm not gonna say much. We love her a lot, she's beautiful and I can't wait to see her grow up. Now I'm gonna try and take a nap and I'll write about her here more when I get some sleep which may or may not be in three years.'_

Harry bites his bottom lip, trying not to cry because he fucking _remembers this_. He remembers bringing Sadie home, so tiny and lovely. She was so small he was scared he'd accidentally crush her. Like a little bird that has fallen out of its nest. He remembers putting her into the onesie, the one with daisies that he was excited for her to wear. It was still a little too big on her but he just couldn't wait. He remembers putting her to sleep, still unsure how to do it, if he should just rock her or give her a bottle or sing to her. But she fell asleep before he had the time to contemplate it and then, somehow, he just wanted to document it. Quickly and quietly, Harry got his Instax from their bedroom and took a photo of Sadie. He wrote the entry right there in her nursery. He remembers the exhaustion of those first few days, how both he and Zayn barely slept because Sadie was a baby, after all, she needed to be fed every few hours. In their small flat, it was impossible not to be woken up by her cries, no matter where you were. But the happiness is palpable to Harry now. No matter how knackered they were, no matter how many poop explosions and spit-ups they had to clean up, they were just so fucking _happy_ to have their baby girl home.

That's when Harry breaks and looks for his phone. It's quite late now and he's worried the kids could wake up but he needs to call Zayn. He just has to. Thankfully, Zayn picks up quickly.

" _Haz? Is everything okay?"_

"Yeah," Harry breathes out deeply, rubbing his nose. His eyes are itching from the tears trying to break out. He doesn't let them, not yet. "I'm fine, don't worry. I- uh, I wanted to talk to you."

" _Yeah, okay,"_ Zayn says. " _What's up, babe?"_

"Did I wake you up?" Harry asks. He starts fidgeting with the trim of his sock. "I can call you in the morning. Sorry."

" _No, I was up,"_ Zayn replies. " _I was on the phone with my mum. Don't worry. I'm glad you called."_

"Right," Harry clears his throat. "Um, I was going through my journal. And I, uh, I read the entry from the day we brought Sadie home."

" _Oh, that was a good day,"_ he can hear Zayn's smile. " _I still remember her onesie with daisies. It was so adorable."_

"Yeah, um, about that," Harry starts. "I remembered. That day. Pretty clearly. And just like... the time around that. How tired we were. How she was waking up so many times during the night."

" _Oh."_

"Can I-" Harry takes a deep breath as a tear finally slides down his cheek. "Can I come home? Z, can I, just, can I come home? I wanna be with you again. I don't wanna miss anything else."

Zayn sighs. Whether in relief or not, that'll remain unknown. " _Fuck, of course, you can, Haz,"_ Zayn says. " _I've missed you, the kids have missed you so much. You don't even have to ask, just come home."_

Harry nods, wiping his cheek quickly. "Yeah, okay. I'll, um, I'll come tomorrow morning. I'll get my mum to drive me. Don't tell the kids, yeah? It can be a nice surprise. It's Saturday tomorrow, right? They don't have camp."

" _Yeah, no, they don't,"_ Zayn agrees. " _They're gonna be so happy to see you."_

"I know," Harry smiles a little. "I just don't wanna be away from them. Remembering that bit with Sadie, I just couldn't... I couldn't stay here knowing that she and Noah are somewhere missing me, and I miss them too. I didn't want to be without you either. We're still married, even if so many of my memories are gone. I just wanna try."

" _That's okay, love,"_ Zayn says. " _We'll try and we'll hopefully get things right. Sadie and Noah are the priority right now. We're grown men, we can deal with this somehow. But our kids, they don't deserve this."_

 _"_ Yeah, I know," Harry sniffs. "So I'll see you tomorrow morning?"

" _Yes, tomorrow morning,"_ Zayn replies. " _The kids will be done with breakfast by 9 AM so anytime after that, we'll all be glad to have you home again."_

"That's good," Harry nods to an empty room. "Tomorrow then. Goodnight, Zayn."

" _Goodnight, Harry."_

When the phone call ends, Harry lets out a sigh and plops down against his pillows. He's going home tomorrow. He's finally going home and he doesn't feel like shit about it. He can do this. He can fucking do this. His kids need him, his husband needs him. Just as when they brought Sadie home, Harry will learn because he loves his children more than anything and that's all that matters. Whatever happens with him and Zayn is secondary. Harry won't let his kids grow up with an absent parent out of pure selfishness. He's been gone for long enough already.

xxx

Harry wakes up terribly early the next morning. He couldn't sleep well, with anxiety making his heart go insanely fast and his mind not giving him a moment of respite. It was all thinking and wondering what to do, how to act, planning and hoping for things to be okay.

So in the morning, Harry packs quietly as he waits for his mum to get up. There's not much, just the holdall that Zayn had given him when he was discharged from the hospital. It seems like an eternity ago now, especially with Harry's minor wounds and bruises slowly disappearing. If only the scars were on his body and not on his life, his family.

When Harry tells Anne that he's going back, she smiles at him and gives him a hug. Harry didn't give much thought how it was for her, seeing a completely different version of her son than she remembered. And she hasn't seen her grandchildren since before Harry's accident either. As far as he knows, they visit her often and Sadie did ask about gran once or twice. That's another thing Harry needs to fix.

Just after nine, Harry's sitting in his mum's car in front of his and Zayn's house. It's a simple semi-detached house in a nondescript residential area. There's a car parked in the driveway, one that Harry is familiar with now.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Anne asks.

Harry shakes his head. "No, it's gonna be fine. I'll just... go home, I guess."

"It's gonna be fine, love," Anne puts her hand atop Harry's, giving him an encouraging smile. "They all miss you and you miss them too. Once you're home again, things will be easier. You can't throw your whole life away."

"I wouldn't," Harry frowns. "I just needed time."

"And no one's holding that against you," Anne affirms. "Everyone understands how difficult this situation is. But underneath all this struggle, you still have two lovely children and an amazing husband. So don't be scared to go back to them."

Harry nods a few times.

"I know you're worried more about Zayn than the kids." Harry looks at him mum in mild shock. He didn't expect her to be so blunt. "He still loves you, Harry. He might not show it well because he's worried about how you both will handle the kids now. So you need to try and show him that you love him still, if you do."

"He kissed me," Harry says quietly, almost in a trance. "When he dropped me off from the park. Just on the cheek."

"That's good," Anne smiles a little. "You know that you can call me anytime? At any hour?"

"I know," Harry nods. "So, I guess I have to go."

"You do."

"Thanks, mum," Harry says. "For everything."

"You really don't need to thank me, darling," Anne hugs him quickly and kisses his cheek. "Now off you go. Before Sadie sees us here and runs out screaming like a banshee."

Harry laughs. "Okay, going now. See you soon."

Harry hesitates once he's standing outside his house, with his mum already speeding down the street. Without the shelter of the car, he feels vulnerable. He can still majorly fuck up and that can have a negative effect on the children's development. He and Zayn can fall apart and their relationship can end in a divorce. But if he doesn't try, he won't know.

"Get your shit together, mate," Harry whispers to himself as he walks to the front door. He must look insane. "You've got this. It's your bloody family. You love them. Everything will be fine."

Harry rings the doorbell and soon enough, there's a significant amount of commotion from the other side. As soon as the door is open, Sadie comes running out, Noah following her at his slower toddler pace.

"Daddy, you're home!" Sadie screams and Harry doesn't hesitate to pick her up as soon as he's dropped his bag. "I missed you so much! We're gonna paint our nails and bake and we'll take pictures of Paul!"

"Of course we will, strawberry," Harry says and kisses the side of Sadie's head. "I've missed you, Sadie. How are you, baby?"

"I'm good," Sadie smiles. "Can you put me down? I have to go get Paul."

Harry chuckles. "Of course." He places Sadie down again and it's just in time for Noah to come in shouting 'Daddy, daddy!' again and again. So he has a different kid in his arms now, this one much less chatty. And he finally notices Zayn, who's leaning against the wall near the doorway, watching them with a slight smile.

"Hi," Harry tries to grin.

"Hey," Zayn smiles. "The kids saw your mum's car through the window. Barely kept them in."

"It's okay," Harry says and jostles Noah in his grasp so he doesn't fall. "What's the plan for today?"

Zayn shrugs. "Whatever you want. I do believe Sadie will keep you more than busy."

"As she should, I've been gone a while," Harry huffs and tries to laugh. "Can I come in?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Zayn shakes his head, peeling off the wall. "I've no idea why we're standing around in the doorway for all our noisy ass neighbours to see. Sorry, Noah, you didn't hear the a-word. Don't repeat it. Come in, Haz, I'll grab your bag."

"Thank you," Harry smiles a little and walks in. Just as he starts walking down the hallway with Noah still in his arms, Sadie saunters in, holding a black cat. So that's Paul. He's the one character that has been mostly absent from Harry's memory. There's probably one too many cats in his life to remember them all.

"Daddy, Paul wants to say hi!" Sadie announces. She doesn't stop in front of Harry though and walks right into the living room. Harry follows her and Sadie drops Paul in the middle of the room. The cat meows as he lands and then turns around, walking to Harry and rubbing his head against Harry's shins. Okay, that's quite nice.

"Hi, kitty," Harry crouches down and pets Paul. "You're a cute one, aren't ya?" Paul meows again, purring and then he quickly retires to a cat tree in the corner.

"We need to take pictures of Paul with your phone, daddy," Sadie says. She has plopped down on the black carpet in the middle of the room. There are some toys spewed around.

"Okay, we will, baby," Harry promises. "Noah, do you wanna play with Sadie?" As Harry tries to put Noah down on the carpet, Noah starts to wail. "Okay, that's a no then," Harry says quickly and cuddles Noah against his chest. He sits down in an armchair and watches as Sadie starts playing with some dolls while singing a song.

"Paul has an Instagram," Zayn's voice comes from the doorway and soon enough, he joins them all in the living room. He ruffles Noah's hair before he sits down on the couch. "That's why Sadie wants to take pictures."

"Really?" Harry frowns. "Our cat has an Instagram?" Now that's one thing Harry didn't think he'd ever do. Pet Instagrams can be fun, but most of the time they're just cringy.

"Yep," Zayn nods, a small smirk on his lips. "And he has like 12,000 followers. He's a proper influencer."

Harry scoffs loudly. "You're messing with me. Our cat's an influencer?"

"I promise I'm not joking," Zayn laughs. "We've got like, sponsored stuff for him and what not. This one company sent us a litter robot for him a year ago. He's regularly gifted stuff."

Harry can't believe this. He shakes his head. "No, that can't be. Really?" Zayn nods, a grin on his lips. "Who made the account?"

"It's linked to your personal account," Zayn says. "But we both kinda did. You manage it now but back when he was a kitten, we shared it."

"Oh my god," Harry breathes out. He gently pulls Noah's hand from his necklaces. "We have an influencer cat. What is even my life?"

"A never-ending adventure," Zayn grins. "But he is quite funny."

"Daddy, can I have your phone, please?" Harry's eyes go to Sadie on the carpet, who has now lost interest in her dolls. "I want to take pictures of Paul." Harry manages to pull out his iPhone from his back pocket and open the camera for her. "There you go, Sadie. But just photos, okay?"

"Okay, daddy," Sadie snatches the phone and there she goes to the cat tree. Paul is contently licking his arsehole. Sadie doesn't care much and keeps taking photos of him.

"You weren't joking about Noah," Harry says after a while, breaking the awkward silence that has fallen over him and Zayn. "He doesn't want me to put him down."

"Is your wrist bothering you?" Zayn asks.

Harry frowns. "No, not now. No-No, darling, do you wanna play?" Noah shakes his head and goes back to chewing on Harry's shirt. Harry looks at Zayn. "I don't know s-h-i-t about childcare at this moment but this can't be good."

"He'll be fine soon," Zayn dismisses it and grabs a dino toy from the carpet. "Noah, babe, look who's here." Noah does indeed turn his attention to the toy. "Is that Bruno the brontosaurus? Do you wanna play with him and his friends?" And just like that, Noah's reaching for the toy, Harry's shirt and necklaces abandoned. Zayn takes him out of Harry's hold and puts him on the carpet, where Noah contently starts playing with the rest of his dino toys. Harry only then notices that they don't have a coffee table, only three matching end tables by the couch and armchairs. The whole living room is decorated in a quite retro style, something around the '60s and '70s. Harry doesn't feel like he's in a strange place in the house. He knows there's a study behind the french door leading from the living room, that used to be a dining room. The kitchen is now a dining room too and it doesn't have a door, only a doorway from the hallway. He knows there are four bedrooms upstairs. Very vaguely, he remembers going around charity shops and various websites, looking for the cheap yet chic vintage pieces for the house. And Harry loves it. The circumstances with which they bought the house and decorated it aren't clear to him but he just feels _good_ there. Nothing is strange or alien to him, despite not explicitly knowing everything. It's not a huge house, or flashy, but it's cosy and welcoming.

"I love our house," Harry says, voicing his inner monologues. "Really love it."

"You're responsible for the majority of it," Zayn smiles timidly. "All this took a lot of Pinterest boards and thrifting and Ikea trips. It would've been much more fun if we didn't have a small baby too."

"When did we move in?" Harry asks. "I noticed from like, my photos and journal, that it was when Sadie was quite small still."

"Um, kinda," Zayn nods. "Our old flat was really small to raise a kid in so after you were promoted to like, a regular therapist, with proper patients and not just with the tiny cases, and after I did my PhD and started lecturing full-time, we decided to get a house. Sadie was around a year old when we moved."

Harry hums. "It's still kinda strange to me, how I just jumped into proper adulthood like that."

"It was strange, yeah," Zayn chuckles. "I've been trying to make sense of why we were like that back then for a long time but I can't. We fell in love and I guess we wanted to build a life together. It came naturally. Not for a moment did I think it was crazy when you said you wanted kids before we had even finished uni. It made sense. Like, yeah, we got married and then kids felt like the next step but not because of... whatever we're supposed to do, we just wanted it. Our entire relationship was like, fast-forwarded. At least it seems like it now. It didn't at the time."

"Well," Harry clears his throat. "I guess I should thank myself for all this. Because I'm really happy to be back home, Zayn. I really am. I won't be just like I was, at least not for a while but we have two amazing children and I couldn't live with myself if I let them down."

"You won't, Harry," Zayn shakes his head softly, smiling. "Parenthood just came naturally to you. I know I must seem to you now like the better parent out of the two of us, but trust me, I'm normally the one more likely to forget the lunchboxes or to give them too many biscuits."

Harry laughs cautiously. "You don't have to worry about that because right now, I don't even have a clue what they eat or when. So I guess Sadie and Noah will enjoy a bit too many biscuits for a while."

"I'm more than fine with that," Zayn chuckles. "I'm not a big fan of your whole clean-eating thing but I _guess_ it's better for us all, like health-wise."

"See?" Harry gestures with his hand. "This whole retrograde amnesia thing might even have some benefits."

Zayn's face drops and Harry wants to eat his fucking words. Zayn clears his throat. "If you wanted, I'm sure there are some like, notebooks and folders with nutrition stuff and basically child-rearing. You have some books too. It's all in the study. You did a ton of research when Sadie was a baby."

"Thanks," Harry says, his face red. "I, uh, I'm sorry. It's too early to joke about this."

"We'll get through this somehow, Harry," Zayn sighs. "As long as Sadie and Noah are fine."

Harry nods silently, looking at the floor. Within a minute, Sadie's asking for him and from then on, Harry's thrown into the routine of his past/current life and there's really no going back. She asks him to post a photo on Paul to his Instagram and Harry's once again shocked that their cat really has 12,304 followers. He posts a photo of Paul licking his arse and writes, ' _Sorry for the break in posting. Things are going back to normal, slowly but surely. Paul doesn't care much because he's a cat.'_.

Then there's a lunch to be made, games to be played, snacks to be given and Harry isn't _completely_ lost. Zayn is distant and the kiss from a week ago now seems a lifetime ago. Harry tries not to let it get to him because there are other improvements. He successfully made lunch, after insisting that he can do it, even if he had to consult an old notebook from the study with recipes. It's fine, plenty of people use cookbooks and recipes for cooking.

Sadie and Noah don't make Harry feel like he scarcely remembers his life. They give him cuddles and kisses and don't mind that he's a bit slow at understanding their games. He and Sadie do their nails together and it actually makes Harry feel better, not having chipped nail polish.

Zayn makes dinner while Harry plays with Sadie and Noah, and it's actual work, trying to keep them both from running wild around the house. Harry truly understands now why the term 'terrible twos' was coined. They eat dinner outside on the patio while Paul is trying to catch moths. It feels great, and Harry has this tingle in his chest, as if his soul was trying to say that yes, this is okay, this is fine, you're doing well. He has the attention of his children but there's still a fucking Grand Canyon between him and Zayn.

They do bathtime together and Harry puts Noah to bed, while Zayn does the same with Sadie. And then, Harry's hopeful, thinking they would sleep together in the same bed, in _their_ bed but when Harry leaves Noah's room, Zayn's waiting for him in the corridor.

"The guest room is a bit of a mess," Zayn says. "We wanted to redo it and move Noah's room there so he has more space. Didn't get to start with it because, you know."

"The guest room?" Harry frowns.

"Yeah," Zayn looks at the floor for a moment before lifting his head. "Today has been a lot on you. Don't wanna stress you out more by, like, marital stuff. We'll be fine. Night, Harry."

Before Harry has the chance to protest, Zayn is gone and Harry's left alone. He won't be _stressed out_ , he just wants his fucking husband back. And Zayn has said he wants Harry to be home again so what the fuck is this?

Harry takes a confident stride towards the master bedroom before he halts. He can't start a fight right now. The kids are asleep and fighting before they have even reconciled is a stupid idea. Harry won't get Zayn back by being a brat. That's not someone Zayn loves, should love.

So Harry breathes in deeply, takes the defeat and retreats to the guest room. It's fine, he tells himself. They still have time. Harry hasn't been back for even 24 hours. They'll be fine. They have to be. Harry won't let his marriage fall apart so easily.

xxx

Harry could barely sleep in the guest room. The space itself was nice, with a large vintage bed with a towering headboard that took over most of the room but Harry couldn't bring himself to sleep. In the meantime, he found a recipe for an easy walnut cake he could make with Sadie and also answered some of his queries from the notebook, just from his observations. He has a plan, kind of, and he's not letting his family slip through his fingers.

The morning routine the kids have was easy enough for Harry to understand. Potty, brush their teeth and face, get dressed, breakfast. But over breakfast, Zayn dropped a small-ish bomb on Harry.

"Niall's coming over for lunch," he said as he tried to convince Noah that blackberries were as tasty as all the other berries he loves.

Harry stopped in his tracks and let Sadie finish cutting the rest of her pancakes. "What?"

"It's Sunday," Zayn said plainly. Noah was finally eating. "I believe I've told you that we normally get lunch together on Sundays, if we're not with our families. You don't have to worry, it's casual. Just normal lunch."

"Um, okay," Harry says, not believing his own words. "I can cook?"

"Okay," Zayn nods. "I actually have some work to do. I extended my leave but my class has an exam this week so my inbox is full of students begging for advice and stuff."

"That's fine," Harry tries to smile. He's fucking lost. "Sadie and I can also bake a cake, can't we?"

Sadie nods, her mouth full. "I'm gonna be your helper chef!" she giggles after she swallows her food. Her small fork is more in the air than on the plate.

"That you will," Harry wipes a bit of almond butter from her cheek. "I found this yummy recipe for a walnut cake last night so we can make that. But I haven't seen any walnuts in the pantry so maybe we'll go on an adventure to the shop first." That's quite brave, taking Sadie out somewhere. He _could_ definitely forget her in the shop. There's a million things that could go wrong.

"Yeah, Noah's allergic to walnuts," Zayn says then. "Don't think it's the best idea to keep a walnut cake around."

Harry turns to him with wide eyes. "Oh my god," he leans his forehead into his palm, his heart dropping down to his stomach. "Is there anything else I should know about before I accidentally kill my children?"

"Daddy, that's mean," Sadie says offhandedly and goes to drink her tea.

"Accidentally, baby," Harry remarks before turning his attention back to Zayn. "So?"

"Harry, don't be dramatic," Zayn says quietly. "They're not allergic to anything else. I should've told you but we don't keep walnuts in the house, I didn't think it would be a problem."

"Yes, but you couldn't forsee me finding the worst possible recipe and being a danger to our children," Harry scoffs. "It's not your fault that I'm an unfit father and worse than a teenage babysitter."

"It's _no one_ 's fault, Harry," Zayn says sternly, his gaze burning. "Were you supposed to just hide from them forever and have them visit you twice a month as if we were divorced and I had custody? We both had to learn how to take care of them, we didn't just magically acquire that knowledge when we had Sadie."

"Fuck, of course, not!" Harry raises his voice. When he realizes he has three pairs of eyes staring at him in shock, he slaps his hand over his mouth.

"Daddy said a bad word!" Sadie gasps theatrically and starts giggling.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Sadie," Harry sighs. "I'm not gonna do that again."

Sadie just shrugs and goes back to eating her pancakes.

"Haz," Zayn says softly. Harry turns to him. "This is hard for everyone. But everyone's here to help you. Don't punish yourself and disregard your progress because you forgot something. You forgot a lot of things that used to be important, or still are. But that's what happened and you're not gonna change anything by being angry with yourself. Just ask me about things. You can't beat yourself up into remembering all the details."

Harry gulps. "Okay, yeah," he clears his throat. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me," Zayn says. He stands up after that and takes Noah out of his highchair. "I need to get started with the work I have but I'll take Noah with me so you and Sadie can wow us all with some culinary masterpiece, right Sadie?"

"Yep, dad!" Sadie says enthusiastically. "Can I get a kissy?"

"Of course you can," Zayn smiles a little and kisses Sadie. "Be good for daddy, okay?"

"I will," Sadie nods. "Bye-bye No, bye, dad."

"Bye, darling," Zayn kisses the top of her head before he leaves with Noah. And Harry's left there with Sadie and a lunch to make.

"So, what would you like for lunch today, strawberry?" Harry asks Sadie.

Sadie hums. "I want a kish."

"Kish?" Harry frowns.

Sadie nods with a grin. "Yes, daddy. It's like a pie but it's like a pie with scrambled eggs!"

"Oh," Harry leans back in his chair. "A quiche?"

Sadie nods again. Great, so now Harry has to learn how to make a fucking quiche. As if trying to be a good father again wasn't enough.

xxx

Harry ends up consulting the internet. He quickly finds a recipe that looks easy enough so he doesn't monumentally fuck it up. Right, a pasty, some eggs, vegetables. At least Sadie isn't a mini Gordon Ramsay and didn't ask for a bloody Wellington or something. That would've been more difficult.

He engages Sadie too because frankly, Harry has no idea how to watch her while also cooking so he will take a messy kitchen over a hurt child, thank you very much. They must bake together often because, in one of the drawers, Harry finds a tiny rolling pin and other pastry tools. Sadie takes them all out with great enthusiasm so he has his answer alright. They make the pastry together and Harry gives some to Sadie to make whatever she wants out of it. Some tartlet pans were hiding in a drawer and Harry gives three to Sadie, along with total creative freedom. It does keep her occupied while he makes the filling and blind-bakes the pastry.

Sadie ends up making three wonky tartlets, or mini-quiches as she says, one for her, one for Noah and one for Paul. If the dinner the night before has told Harry something it's that their cat adores human food and nothing will stop him from getting it. Paul himself turns up in the kitchen just at the right time to entertain Sadie when Harry starts cleaning up. He wanted to maybe make dessert but he decides to take it easy. There must be ice cream in the freezer, it's summer. That should be enough.

Niall arrives just after 1 PM with a bottle of white wine and one of his bear hugs.

"It's good to see you here again, mate," Niall says after he squeezes all the air out of Harry. "Where's your man and kiddos?"

"Sadie's feeding Paul some meat tubes, Noah's with Zayn so they're both in the study," Harry replies. "Come on in, they're all gonna be here in a moment."

Niall follows Harry into the kitchen dutifully. "So how is it back home?"

Harry sighs deeply, his hands on his hips. "Um, good, yeah. I think."

"You think?" Niall furrows his brows and plops down in a chair at the dining table. "How don't you have a clear answer for that?"

"It's hard, Ni," Harry says and takes the oven mitts from the kitchen island. "I'm a horrible dad. I wanted to feed Noah walnuts when he's allergic. Zayn probably wants to leave me but he won't do it because he's too good of a person for that." The oven lets out a puff of steam and temporarily fogs up everything. But the quiche isn't burnt so Harry deems it a success. "Everything's shit, mate. And I don't know how to fix it."

Niall goes to say something but before he can, Sadie runs in from the conservatory and immediately starts climbing into Niall's lap.

"Jesus," Niall huffs and helps Sadie up. "Hello, Sadie, a little warning would've been nice. Uncle Niall's getting old. Harold, why do you have two of the clingiest children in the universe?"

"Excuse me, Niall," Harry scoffs. "They're both amazing. Being loving isn't a character flaw. Sadie, give uncle Niall a kissy."

"You're encouraging this!" Niall exclaims scandalously as Sadie starts blowing a raspberry onto his cheek and giggling. "You little rascal, you're just like your daddy. You wanna sing some songs after lunch?"

"I do!" Sadie screeches. "At camp, we learned a new one! It's so cool! It's about racoons."

"Racoons?" Niall frowns, looking at Harry. "Do we even have racoons in England?"

"I've no clue," Harry shrugs and puts the quiche on the table. "Haven't seen any."

Moments later, Zayn comes in with Noah and if Harry was any more paranoid, he would think he's avoiding him. He doesn't mention it and sets his mind on making the lunch as _normal_ as possible. He asks Niall about his music classes and Harry truly learns the extent of summer schools and classes and camps. His summers were always spent at home, usually with some grandparents too when his mum had work, not at an educational institution. Some parents are overbearing and Harry fears he might've been one of them too. Still is maybe.

Harry's pleased to find he didn't fuck the quiche up and what's even better, he's finally allowed to drink. Because of the medication, he was taking for his concussion, alcohol was a big no-no and that fucking sucked because all Harry wanted to do was get blackout drunk. The two glasses he drinks over lunch aren't anywhere near that but still, it's good enough.

After lunch, Harry's left alone in the kitchen after offering to clean up. He spent almost two weeks away from home, it's only right he takes on a few more household duties now. Soon enough, music and laughter start coming from the living room and Harry's never felt so lonely. He's in his own house with his two beautiful children, with his husband and best friend and Harry feels lonelier than he's ever had before. He stares into the soapy water in the sink, his hands lost in the bubbles when the first tear falls.

Harry takes a deep breath, sniffling and he keeps on washing the dishes. The tears haven't halted in their journey but it's just too much. He hears the sound of the guitar and singing and laughing and it's like he's the only person left in the world, everything else just a vision, a ghost from the past. But it is a bit like that, isn't it?

Harry needs to talk to someone, someone that isn't here, isn't seeing the carnage. When he's dried and put away the dishes, Harry grabs his phone and texts Jeff to call him ASAP. And it's like the fucking universe hates him because Jeff promptly texts back that he's heading into a meeting so he won't be able to for a few hours.

So Harry might be avoiding his family, tattering around the kitchen aimlessly until Sadie calls out to him, "Daddy, where are you? We have a new song!"

"I'm coming, baby!" Harry calls back and quickly wipes his face with a paper towel. He puts on a smile, that hopefully doesn't come out as a grimace and heads to the living room. Sadie coordinates him and tells him to sit on the couch because that's the audience apparently so Harry has to sit next to Zayn and feel even lonelier than before. Niall's pulled out a guitar from somewhere and he skillfully engages Sadie and Noah in a song. Sadie's a right performer, while Noah just jumps around a bit and giggles between shouting out a few words from the lyrics he knows.

Harry smiles at the kids because it's impossible not to. They're happy and they're having fun and Harry _loves them so fucking much_ it hurts his heart. He doesn't need to remember much past the bits and pieces of similar days like this to adore his children. They're still his kids.

In the middle of the song, Harry is startled by a touch at his waist. At first, he thinks it's Paul slinking around but then he spots the cat sleeping on the back of an armchair and realizes that it's Zayn. And he's wrapped his arm around Harry's waist, effectively nearly stopping Harry's breathing. He would swear that his eyes started ringing, everything going blurry except for the visceral feeling that's holding him hostage. Harry does something brave then, but it's something he fears would've taken his soul if he didn't do it. He leans into Zayn, dropping his head on his shoulder. The fragility of it keeps Harry from moving, almost from breathing too. At any moment Zayn could pull away and this bubble of a life past, love lost would be gone.

"Are you okay?" Zayn whispers.

Harry breathes in, closing his eyes for a second. "I'm okay now."

Zayn's hand tightens on Harry's hip and the world is whole again. Harry's astounded at how two simple sentences were able to say so much. He wants this back, he wants the full extent of their relationship, of their love back. This is who he is now. _This_ is his life. And Harry knows he can't run from it. He _can't._

xxx

The change Harry had hoped for doesn't come yet. In the evening, after another dinner outside, he finds himself in the guest bedroom again. By now, Harry's more than certain he won't be able to fall asleep so he prepares himself for the sleepless hours. He finds those folders and books about childcare in the study and also his work journal. Apart from getting "back" with his husband, Harry wants to return to work. He _needs_ to, actually. They have a house and two children and they're not posh kids with trust funds they can live off of forever.

Paul joins Harry in the guest room and falls asleep at the end of the bed as Harry goes through all those books and notebooks in front of him. He reads a bit about nutrition in children, which is flabbergasting, kind of. At one point in his life, Harry sat down and did all this research, read all these books, just so he could provide his kids with the best possible care. It breaks his heart that he can't remember much of it but memories still keep coming back, in bits and pieces. It's a wildly strange process but Harry can feel himself moulding into the life he had before the accident, fitting back with his family. In the beginning, he felt like a wholly different person. He wasn't a dad, he wasn't a husband. But now he _knows_ that he is. He wants to be a dad again, he wants to be with his children. Taking care of them is still a bit wonky from his side but he can get better, can't he? When Sadie was a baby he certainly wasn't a shining example of parenthood.

With his job, Harry's less confident and that's only because he doesn't remember much about his patient. Just as with his children, he's afraid he could hurt them by understanding their issues and problems in the wrong way and that _could_ potentially lead to death. Harry remembers, more clearly than he'd like, talking a patient out of suicide on their vacation just weeks ago. Being a therapist isn't an easy job and although Harry remembers most of the things he had learned in uni, he needs to dedicate a good amount of time to getting familiar with the cases of his patients again.

His journal is an amazing source and he mentally thanks himself in the past for doing this. Whenever he got a new patient or stopped seeing one, there is a concise profile of all the why, how, what. Currently, Harry has a schedule that contains five to seven patients a day. Some people visit him twice or more times per week, some just once so all in all, he has a little over twenty patients in total. Which is still a lower number than he'd expected. He digs into his journal and takes a plain A4 paper for each one, writing down the most crucial details and things he _needs_ to know. Like little flashcard for a test almost.

He does that for quite a while, hours probably, he doesn't check his phone. Paul moves into his lap at one point and stays there despite Harry writing constantly and reaching over the bed for different papers, notebooks and his laptop too. It's a good system and Harry's happy with it, even as his neck burns from the way he's sitting and he feels the inkling of a headache coming in. After god knows how long, he stretches his arms, moves Paul to a spare pillow and goes to use the loo. On his way back, he decides to check in with the kids. Sadie's soundly asleep and Harry doesn't risk getting closer past peering in from a cracked door in case he wakes her up. But he does walk into Noah's room and stands above his crib. Noah looks so sweet when he's asleep, his lips pouted and eyelashes casting a slight shadow on his face. His curls are a bit damp. He must be hot in the onesie in the summer heat. Harry decides to open the window for a while, hoping the night air has cooled and will relieve the remnants of the day's heat.

Just as Harry plops down into the rocking chair that's in the room, Noah begins to wake up. He murmurs and whines a little. Harry's picking him up before he has the change to starts crying.

"Daddy," Noah whines out and fists his hand in Harry's t-shirt. "Want daddy."

"Daddy's here, baby," Harry whispers and kisses the top of Noah's head. "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere." He rocks Noah in his arms and thankfully, Noah doesn't start crying. When he gets his other hand into the hair at the nape of Harry's neck, he quiets down completely and presses his face against Harry. "Is that better, baby? Daddy's here, you don't have to worry."

At this point, Harry knows that trying to put Noah down would be futile. His clinginess would've been worrisome under any other circumstance but Harry knows enough that after this kind of trauma, it's only understandable. Noah is only two, he relies on routines, on having his parents with him. After Harry's accident, there was a bold change in it all, with Harry gone for a significant amount of time. Noah just missed his daddy and it was kind of traumatising to suddenly not have his daddy there when he woke up in the middle of the night or there was a different parent in familiar places but at different times. Harry knows that he's the one to drop the kids off, always, because he starts later at his job than Zayn and then Zayn picks them up because he's off earlier than Harry. It works and the kids are used to it. Noah's too little to understand this change, and many others.

Harry sits down in the rocking chair with Noah, who's slowly drifting off in his arms. He understands why he was so adamant about holding Noah all the time when he was a baby. It's probably the best feeling in the world, holding his children and now, he's savouring the moments. A few days after the accident, Harry was struggling to understand how he became the kind of a person who's sad about his two-year-old growing up. Well, now he gets it because he's painfully aware that soon enough, he won't be able to just hold Noah like this. Noah won't be a baby anymore, just like Sadie isn't. She has places to go, things to do and see, she's a busy young lady and Noah's gonna be the same, it's just the matter of time. So Harry savours every second, every kiss he leaves on Noah's head, every time he smells his hair. He kisses Noah's hand and lets his eyelids fall shut. He'll wait until Noah's asleep and then he'll retire to his tragically empty guest room.

And Harry really didn't mean to fall asleep. But at some point, he feels himself waking up after someone puts a hand on his cheek.

"Haz, wake up," Zayn says and Harry is close to freaking out because this feels like the hospital again. There's even some pain in his back.

"What?" Harry quickly opens his eyes. Noah is still sleeping against his chest. "Oh god," Harry sighs. His back is _fucked_. He shouldn't have fallen asleep in this damn chair. "What time is it?"

"Just after two," Zayn replies. "I went to the bathroom and saw the door open, then I found you two here. C'mon, your back will be a mess if you stay here."

"It already is," Harry huffs and stands up carefully so he doesn't wake Noah. "I came in to check the kids and to open a window for a bit because Noah was all sweaty. Then he woke up, almost started crying and here we are now." He puts Noah carefully in his crib and also opens the buttons on his onesie. He hears Zayn close the window and yeah, that's a good idea because now, there are probably hordes of mosquitos around the nightlight. Harry puts his hands on the side of the cribs, sagging. It's insane now how he thought at the beginning that he couldn't be with his children. He wants to go back in time and slap himself. But then, he didn't remember how lovely Noah looked when he was sleeping or how great it felt to have Sadie rope him into all kinds of activities and demand cuddles.

Zayn joins him at the crib and Harry doesn't even need to look, he just senses him moving to him, feels his body heat.

"Haz?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you really okay?" Harry turns his head only to find Zayn already looking at him. "I know you were crying earlier today."

Harry bites the inside of his cheek. "I felt lonely. In my own house surrounded by the people closest to me. There's so much distance between us, Zayn. I don't want that. Sadie and Noah are still my priority but it's easier with them than with us. I don't want to lose you. I know that right now, I'm not completely the man you married but for me, that doesn't change anything."

Zayn sighs. Harry thinks it's all futile but then Zayn puts his hand low on Harry's hip, almost on his thigh. "It's hard, Haz. I'm not- I don't want to make this harder for you than it already is by making you deal with our marriage."

"I miss you," Harry huffs. "I don't want- I don't want much. I just don't want to sleep in the guest room like a fucking stranger, for starters. This is _our_ house, this is _our_ family."

Zayn bites his lip. But then he nods slowly. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable by forcing you to get back to everything so quickly."

Harry scoffs. "Uncomfortable? You're insane. I want to be with you just as much as I want to be with Sadie and Noah."

"Okay," Zayn nods again. "We probably need to communicate better."

Harry breathes out a laugh. "Probably." And because he feels invincible right now, he pulls Zayn into a hug. This is the most they've touched since the accident and Harry feels like he's in fucking sixth-form with a crush but it doesn't matter. They clutch onto each other and Harry loves how they just _fit_ together. There is no need to coordinate, to try and figure out where to put their limbs because all this is still in their muscles, even if Harry's forgotten things. All the kissing and embracing and fucking and making love. It doesn't just disappear.

After a moment, they retire into the master bedroom together, holding hands. Harry sees their bedroom again and just as with the house, it's not unfamiliar. He doesn't need to go around rummaging the drawers and the closet to know that there's a "grown-ups only" drawer in his bedside table and a box with some memorabilia from the kids growing up in the closet. He knows that their closet is barely divided, apart from the underwear, shoes and trousers, since they end up sharing clothes all the time. And he knows that they got their bed from a charity shop online and a completely different bed was delivered to them, one that they kept and still have because they loved it more than the one they wanted initially.

With his husband's arm around his waist, Harry no longer has trouble falling asleep.

xxx

Over the next few days, Harry gets a clearer picture of how his life looked like before his accident. Having two kids is quite busy, with drop-offs and pick-ups and meals to be made and toys everywhere. But the busy rhythm of it all isn't unpleasant. Harry actually likes it and starts to identify with who he was, who he should be. He FaceTimes Jeff and Niall, texts a few other friends and that aids a lot with that, with basically getting to know himself again.

When the kids are at camp during the day, it gives him and Zayn a bit more time to collect all the important info Harry needs to function normally like before. Zayn thinks it's a bit of an overkill, especially Harry's notebook but nonetheless, he's supportive. So sneakily without the kids knowing, Harry relearns all about their favourite foods, toys and Peppa the Pig. These are things he _should_ know, Sadie and Noah expect him to know. He and Zayn don't talk that much about their past. Harry feels a bit embarrassed to ask about such crucial details about their relationship. They still haven't even started kissing normally. Sure, Harry sleeps in their bedroom again and they hold onto each other at night, but the most he'll get out of Zayn is a chaste peck on the lips if he's lucky. It's like they were in their early teens again. But Harry doesn't push it. They'll get back to where they were, it'll just take time.

He and Zayn also focus a bit on their work, with Harry trying to learn all about his patients and Zayn answering emails and working on lesson plans and assessments. The system Harry came up with really works for him and he does think that he will be ready to get back to work soon. The more he finds out about these people, the more he starts to remember and even miss them. At first, he just connects the faces to the names but then Harry's hit by recollections of their hardships, their struggles and it fucking sucks that he's not there now to help them. Of course, they have someone else available for sessions but the trust isn't there, they don't have that relationship with other therapists. Harry knows that the link between a therapist and a patient is delicate and that is what drives him to try harder to get back to work as soon as he can.

All in all, Harry thinks he's doing really well. Until a few days later that is. He's sitting on the carpet in the living room with all his journals and notebooks, along with his laptop on the couch when Zayn comes in from the study.

"Babe, I have to go to the uni today," he says, sighing a little. "The exam is in like, not even two hours and Jenny, my colleague who was supposed to cover, got like food poisoning or something. So I need to go. And you'll have to pick the kids up from camp."

Harry freezes. "Shit," he breathes in deeply. "Okay, yeah. I can do that."

"Of course, you can," Zayn smiles a little and comes to Harry, tilting his head up and leaving a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I'm gonna take the tube because there's no way I'd get to campus on time with the traffic. The address to the camp should be in the GPS in the car, yeah? I'm gonna go change and I've got to run."

"Okay," Harry nods slowly. He's, well, fucking terrified. "Go on, don't want you to be late."

Zayn smiles at him and disappears up the stairs promptly. Harry doesn't have the time to register when he leaves because he's actively freaking out. The last time he drove a car, he totalled it and lost seven years worth of memory. But it's gonna be fine. It has to be fine. He's not going to put his children in danger. Besides, logically, the crash wasn't his fault. Not completely.

Harry paces around the living room for a good while to the point where Paul starts trying to catch him and bite his feet. He's too nervous and anxious to do anything worthwhile with his patients so he decides to busy himself with cleaning the kitchen. It's never in vain to clean a kitchen.

After that's done, Harry changes his clothes, finds the car keys and braves himself into actually getting into the car. He's not scared of driving itself, it's just the possibility of disaster. But as he sits down behind the wheel, he takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself. He turns the keys in the ignition, finds the address to the camp in the GPS, starts driving and doesn't get an aneurysm. Harry drives slower than what he would like but he actually wants to _make it_ to the camp to get his kids. And he does. It takes longer than what the GPS told him it would and he's early but he's there.

Sadie and Noah are surprised it's just him picking them up but they're delighted and don't complain about anything. Harry keeps his eyes on the road on the drive back, drives slow and doesn't turn his sight anywhere else. He doesn't talk to the kids, just in case it'd distract him and it's not like they mind. Sadie is occupied enough with her iPad that Harry thankfully didn't forget at home and Noah is off in his own world with a dino plushie.

Harry breathes out in relief when he parks the car in their driveway, all of them in one piece. As soon as they're inside, the kids start begging for a snack.

"Daddy, I'm hungry," Sadie pouts as she pets Paul, who's sleeping in his cat tree. "I want a snack."

Noah follows his big sister. "Want a snack, daddy."

"Okay, darlings," Harry says and drops down their backpacks in an armchair. "What would you like?"

"I want an apple with peanut butter," Sadie grins. "And a juice box."

"Okay, baby, and you Noah?"

Noah smiles with his baby teeth. "Bubelies!"

Harry laughs and bends down to quickly kiss Noah, who's on the carpet playing with his toys. "Sure, babe." He stands up again, surveying the room. It looks safe. He can leave them there for five minutes while he gets them snacks. He just successfully picked them up from camp, that's progress, isn't it? "I'll be back in a pinch, yeah? Be good!"

In the kitchen, Harry quickly gets to work. He makes the same thing for Noah as well, because he figures that once he sees Sadie eating something, he's gonna want the same. He does put some blueberries on the plate for him too. Just as Harry grabs two juice boxes from the pantry and starts thinking about checking their lunch boxes from camp and washing them, he hears crying from the living room.

Nothing else matters then as Harry's heart jump into his throat and he runs to the living room. His hearing wasn't wrong because it is indeed Sadie crying. She's lying on the carpet, crying her little eyes out and wailing. Noah is okay, Harry thinks, because he's just sitting there, watching her cry.

"Oh my god, Sadie," Harry breathes out and rushes to her. He gets her to sit up slowly. She's clutching her left arm to her chest. "What happened, baby? What did you do?"

Sadie sniffs, snot running down her face along with huge tears. "I- I tried to jump like Paul and I slipped and fell and I think my arm is broken."

Harry's stomach drops. He feels like throwing up. "No, baby, that can't be, let me see," Sadie whines in pain as she lets Harry handle her arm gently and fucking hell. Her arm is clearly bruised and it's starting to swell. "What did you do, strawberry?"

"I climbed on the armchair," Sadie points with her good arm. Harry's shoulders sag. "And then I jumped. Like Paul. But I didn't land on all four."

"Oh, baby," Harry chokes out. Jesus fucking christ, this is bad. "We have to, uh, we have to go to the hospital, okay?"

Sadie is apparently braver than her own father because she just nods. There are tears streaming down her face but she's not sobbing anymore, only hiccuping softly.

"Okay," Harry stands up halfway, still leaning over Sadie with a hand on her back. He looks around, seeing that Noah's still going about his business. "Okay, baby, stand up for me. I think it's going to be safer if you walk."

Sadie stands up and starts whining. "I don't want to walk," she cries. "My arm hurts, daddy."

"Okay, baby," Harry breathes out deeply. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did he think having two children under five was a good idea? What is he supposed to do with Noah now? Nevertheless, he carefully picks up Sadie, being very, very careful around her arm. "Does it hurt?" he asks her and Sadie half-shrugs. "Not any more."

"I love you, baby," Harry says and kisses her head quickly. She's so smart, he can't be thankful enough to have such an incredible child. "Okay, I think we need a... scarf or something for your arm. We'll go upstairs for a moment, okay?"

"Okay, daddy," Sadie lets out between her hiccups. Harry kisses her again and walks upstairs as quickly as he can without hurting Sadie even more. Only once he's in the master bedroom does he realise that he's left Noah downstairs alone and fucking hell, if something happens to him too, Harry will shoot himself into a star. He sits Sadie on his and Zayn's bed and rummages through the drawers in the closet. He finds a silk square scarf that may or may not be designer and fucking hell, when did he even wear this? It's completely irrelevant because it'll be a good enough sling for Sadie.

She's a perfect angel as Harry puts it on, only letting out a small whine, her tears still mostly silent. Harry's heart misses a beat when he realizes that she stopped sobbing loudly once he came to get her. It's his fault in the first place that she's hurt and that's what's like a knife in Harry's stomach.

"Okay, ready to go?" Harry asks Sadie who nods and lets herself be picked up again. Downstairs, Harry swiftly grabs the car keys, his phone and his wallet, hoping there's gonna be everything they need there. Noah is safe and sound and Harry asks him to walk, and to Harry's surprise, he does. Harry takes his hand as they walk to the car and Harry even has half the mind to lock the front door.

Once the kids are strapped in, Harry starts driving. He also starts hyperventilating because holy fucking shit, his daughter has broken her arm and is crying and it's his fault. And he needs to tell Zayn, oh my god, he needs to tell Zayn. Harry tries to slow his breathing as he tells Siri to dial Zayn's number and he's never been more thankful for AI than now. The phone goes to voicemail after a while. Harry calms his breathing enough to say, "Hi, um, oh god. Don't freak out or maybe do, I don't know. Sadie broke her arm. Probably. Most certainly. I don't know. We're on the way to the hospital, the one, um, not the one where I stayed the one closer to our house. I don't know how the f-u-c-k I know that but- Sadie and Noah are with me. Please call me back."

Harry tries to tell Sadie a knock-knock joke, that stupid one he uses when she's crying. Now she actually has something to cry over but Harry can breathe easier when she lets out a small chuckle.

They get there quicky enough and only once Harry's parked in the underground garage does he realize how erratic his driving was. He can't change that now but he realizes what year it is and that probably no one listens to voicemails anymore so he texts Zayn before taking the kids out of the car. Noah still doesn't whine that he has to walk and Harry counts that as a win. Sadie is still crying quietly but Harry's a bit hopeful. She has to be fine. He needs to be rational.

Sadie's admitted quickly and they take her in for an x-ray and other tests, asking Harry to stay in the waiting room. If he had been any more tired or pissed off, he would've argued with the nurse because no matter how horrible, he's still her _father_ and Sadie is only four, she needs her dad. Regardless of that, Harry's left in the waiting room with Noah. Harry's sitting in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs with his face in his hands while Noah plays with blocks in the little play area. He's right next to Harry and seems content so far. Harry's gonna have to get him a snack soon somehow before he starts complaining, which he certainly will soon but for now, he's engaged by the novelty of the waiting room and the toys that aren't his. Curiously, there's no one else in the waiting room.

How could Harry be so fucking careless? Leaving his two small children alone in the living room? Worse things could've happened. Paul could've scratched them. They could've knocked the TV down on them, or god forbid a bookshelf. They could've broken something glass and cut themselves and bled to death. What the fuck? How could he do that?

"Daddy, daddy! Look!"

Harry lifts his face out of his hands to see Noah showing off a tower he made out of the wooden blocks. It makes him smile a little. "You're so smart, Noah," Harry says softly and reaches over to caress Noah's cheek. "Look at that tower, even I couldn't make one like that. I'm proud of you."

Noah smiles and mutters a small thank you. He takes a moment as he looks around the play area before knocking the tower down. Harry sighs and leans back in the chair. He closes his eyes and drapes an arm over his face.

"Babe?"

Harry has no idea how much time has passed when he hears Zayn's voice in the waiting room. He opens his eyes and immediately gets to his feet, walking to Zayn and throwing himself on him. The tears he's been holding back ever since he'd first heard Sadie cry finally come.

"I fucked up," Harry says quietly. "I fucked up so badly, Zayn, oh god. Sadie's hurt, they're doing an x-ray. I hope she's only got a broken arm, I- I fucked up. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," Zayn says, rubbing his hand over Harry's back. "It's all good, she's gonna be fine. She's just a kid, Haz, they get hurt all the time climbing trees and what not."

Harry pulls away a little, shaking his head. "No, you don't understand, I left them alone in the living room while I went to the kitchen to get them snacks. And she just climbed onto an armchair and jumped and god, so many worse things could've happened. They're always in danger with me. I can't take care of them."

"Harry, don't say that," Zayn says fiercely and puts a hand on Harry's cheek. "Shit like this happens. Do you think we didn't leave them alone for a few minutes before? Every single night they sleep alone in their bedrooms. We're not around them 24/7. They go to camp, to a nursery. Our friends watch them. Just because you're their dad you're not a fucking... surveillance device. They're kids, they do stupid shit and get hurt sometimes, you can't stop it."

Harry keeps shaking his head. "This is completely different. I should've been looking after her."

"You _were_ ," Zayn insists. "You were making them food. How were you supposed to know Sadie is going to want to jump off an armchair? She could've done it while you were still in the room. Kids move incredibly fast. One moment they're here, next moment they're elsewhere."

Before Harry has the chance to protest again, a nurse comes in.

"Oh, hello," she smiles a little, quickly checking her clipboard. "You're Sadie's parents, right? There's not really anyone else."

Harry sniffs and detangles himself from Zayn. God, he must look a right mess. "Yes, it's us."

"So, Sadie's fine, she did great," the nurse says, probably reading the room and seeing how distressed Harry is. "She does have a broken arm, it's a small and simple fracture but we're gonna have to put a cast on it. You can go see her now if you want or just wait here with your other kid, it'll be just a moment."

Harry looks over at Zayn. "We can't leave her alone anymore."

"No, of course," Zayn agrees. "I'll just get Noah and we'll go to Sadie, okay?"

Harry nods briefly. His breathing is heavy and his eyes flit around the room, trying not to make eye-contact with the nurse who's waiting for them. It's already embarrassing enough that he was crying here like he was the four-year-old with a broken bone.

When Zayn's got Noah, they follow the nurse to a room nearby, where Sadie's sitting on a bed with a plushie. God, Harry didn't even bring a toy with her. Zayn did tell him that Sadie loves her elephant plushie that they got for her when they adopted one online through WWF. And Sadie often carries it around when she's not treating Paul like a plushie. Fucking hell, it just gets worse.

Sadie isn't crying anymore, her arm in a plain hospital sling and when she sees them come in, she smiles.

"Daddy, dad, I can have a pink cast!" she calls out cheerfully. "And I can draw alllllll over it!"

"That's amazing, darling," Zayn says. He lets Noah sit on the other bed in the room that's conveniently empty. "You're such a strong girl. Will you have superpowers after they remove it?"

Sadie hums. "I don't know. Maybe my arm will be gummy like that doctor in Fantastic Four!"

"Maybe," Zayn nods. "Does anything hurt?"

Sadie shakes her head. "The nice lady gave me a... inchection and a candy."

"An injection, honey," Zayn corrects her. "Did it hurt? Was it like a bee?"

Harry stands a bit away from them, his arms crossed in front of his chest. His nose is blocked, which only makes his breathing even harder than it already is. He can't act like everything's okay now, like he's not the reason why Sadie is in a hospital right now. He fucked up, there's no way going around it.

"Daddy?" Sadie breaks Harry out of his own mind. "What colour cast would you have?"

Harry swallows, trying to hide his glum mood. "Um, I think just a plain one. And I'd let your dad draw something on it, probably."

Sadie turns to Zayn again. "Dad, will you draw something on my cast too?"

"Of course, babe," Zayn smooths her hair. "Anything you want."

As Sadie starts going off about what she wants on her cast and whatnot, the doctor comes in and soon enough, Sadie's in a cast. She doesn't start crying, thankfully, because Harry doesn't know what he would've done if she did. Sadie was in pain because of him, she won't be able to go swimming for the rest of the summer, she will be inhibited at camp and she could easily develop chronic pain from this and it's all because Harry's an unfit parent.

He just wants to turn back time. It's impossible, he knows, but Harry would give _anything_ to go back to that day and to not sit into that car. To not get on the road, to not forget his entire life. Because god knows Harry wants to be home, he wants to be with his husband and kids but it might not be a viable option, at least not for now. Not when they're always at risk with him.

xxx

Harry keeps his distance from everyone for the rest of the day. In the car ride home, he's silent, only offering up a few hums and noncommittal smiles. Sadie is chatty again and Noah is fascinated by her hot pink cast, just as she is. It doesn't really matter since she's still hurt and her summer will be gravely affected by it. She's gonna still have her cast on her first day of school. While all the kids will be nice and dapper in their tiny uniforms, Sadie won't be able to wear it properly easily until October.

When they get back, Harry shutters himself off in the kitchen under the guise of cooking. He doesn't allow himself to break down again. He cleans up the uneaten snacks from earlier and makes dinner so he's useful at least for something.

Trying to figure out what he should do next is pretty fucking hard. Should he leave? Should he stay but distance himself from the kids? Take a class about child-rearing? One that he must've taken almost five years ago before they had Sadie? This is why Harry was hesitant to come home. He _loves_ Sadie and Noah so much but he's forgotten too much, there are too many memories and instincts missing. Sure, everyone has told him what a great dad he was and it'll all come back naturally but fucking hell, it still hasn't and now Sadie has a broken arm.

Harry doesn't want to lose his children, he doesn't want to lose his husband. But maybe he has to. Maybe they'll all be better off without him. Perhaps he rushed back home too soon but that feeling that filled his lungs with tar and punctured his heart when he remembered bringing Sadie home, he just couldn't stay away. He couldn't.

Dinner is a silent affair, with the kids exhausted because neither of them had a nap in the afternoon. Harry keeps his conversation with Zayn minimal. He has trouble looking into his eyes after begging to come home and then causing all this.

When Zayn offers to give the kids a bath and put them to bed, Harry makes his way outside. He sits down on the steps leading into the garden from the patio, catching the last colours of tonight's sunset. Paul is with his for a while, purring against his side before he leaves and sits in a tree. Cats seem to have iron-clad composure. Harry wishes he could swap places with Paul.

In the summer night, Harry contemplates calling his mum and asking if he can stay there again for a while. Maybe for a longer while now. His throat chokes up and his eyes burn when he remembers Sadie's cries, her pale face as she clutched her arm. Harry'd never felt more miserable in his life than at that moment. The fear and horror that put a noose around his neck were like a million knives slowly slicing his skin, going down to the bone. He's supposed to protect Sadie, protect his little girl who's still so fragile to the world. He can't let her break her bloody arm in the safety in her own house. If she's not safe in their fucking living room, then where?

The sky is nearly all-black by the time Harry hears the conservatory door open. Zayn joins him on the steps soon enough, still maintaining Harry's heart-wrenching silence.

"Haz, it's not your fault," Zayn says quietly after a while. Harry doesn't look at him as he speaks. "It really isn't. Sadie has had scraped knees and elbows before. She's had cuts. She's a strong girl and she's so young. All kids that age get hurt while playing."

Harry chuckles morbidly. "This could've ended much worse. I'm supposed to look after her and prevent these kinds of things," Harry twists his neck to meet Zayn's gaze. "A few days ago, I wanted to feed Noah walnuts when he's allergic. Now Sadie has broken her arm. I shouldn't be here, Zayn. I'm not- I'm just not the person I used to be. I can't take care of two children."

Zayn shakes his head. "You can. And you have. Jesus Christ, Harry," Zayn huffs. "If this had happened before your accident, you would've been trying to make Sadie laugh and you would've dismissed the whole thing with the same arguments I've made. You never used to fuss around this stuff. You'd put some antiseptic on Sadie's boo-boo, make a joke, put a plaster or a bandage on it and call it a day. You once made up a whole fucking song about cuts and scrapes so Sadie wouldn't be upset. She was bound to break a bone eventually. It could've been at camp, it could've been while at school. It could've been literally anywhere. She's okay, Harry."

"Fucking hell, but I'm not that person now," Harry argues. He runs his hand through his hair. The shortness of it still feels strange. Sometimes he has the urge to put it up but he just doesn't have the length to do it. "I'm not that fun dad who makes up songs about small injuries. You said it yourself that I'm not the person Sadie and Noah know, you know. I'm completely different now."

"I know," Zayn says quietly. He looks to the side for a moment before meeting Harry's eyes again. "The first few days, you were a perfect snapshot of who you were when we started dating. On the outside, you were still my husband I've known for years. But then everything, from your speech to your mannerism, it was you at 21. When you didn't recognise Sadie I just wanted to fucking die because it was like you were _gone_. That morning, we woke up with our kids in bed screaming about some cartoon they wanted to watch. We snogged in the kitchen before you left and we wanted to try a new sourdough pizza recipe in the evening. And then I get a call from the police that you're in the hospital. Harry, I started thinking about calling my mum and asking how do you plan a funeral because that's where your mind unfortunately goes. But then you were _alive_ , with only some minor injuries. Then you woke up and you were gone. The past seven years didn't happen to you. We didn't fall in love, we didn't get married, we didn't have children. I thought I'd lost you.

"But you started remembering some things. You kept trying to get back to your life, our life. And ever since that day at the park, it was you again, Haz," Zayn carefully puts his hand on Harry's on the step. "Truth is, you were never really gone. Since you've been home, it was almost like before again. It's still you, even if you don't remember everything. So what if you don't know what Sadie's favourite snack is? She'll eagerly ask for it. Noah is still so little, things with him change like the weather. You've always been a natural at this. We were so young when Sadie was a baby yet you never faltered, never hesitated. Yeah, you took your research seriously but you also took things as they came. Sure, sometimes you got worried, like when you asked her doctor about her face getting red when she cried. Even then, you made light of it and started calling her a strawberry. All this now, you're as tight as a string on a bloody violin. You're too anxious about everything. Bloody hell, you're the therapist here, Harry, you should recognise these patterns. It's still _you,_ Harry. You're still Sadie's and Noah's dad. You're still my husband."

Harry draws a shaky breath. "You can't mean this," he gets out, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're only saying this to console me. I don't deserve that, Zayn. I fucked up."

"Jesus, we all fuck up," Zayn scoffs. "Okay, will it make you feel better if I tell you that one time, I grabbed the wrong kid at a playground instead of Sadie and only realised it almost at the car?"

"What?" Harry gawks. "You're making this up."

"I'm not," Zayn says. "It was years ago. It was like, February, Sadie was all bundled up in a million layers, she was like a tiny marshmallow man. I wasn't paying attention because I was barely awake. Around that time, it was really chaotic because I was finishing up my PhD and we were planning to move, plus we had a toddler. So I accidentally grabbed a completely different kid who was wearing a coat similar to Sadie's."

"Oh my god, what did I do then? Did you even tell me?"

"I did, yeah," Zayn chuckles a little. "And you _laughed._ Sadie was okay, everyone was okay. Sure, there were scenarios running around my mind like what if someone had kidnapped her? What if I were arrested for stealing a child if I hadn't noticed it wasn't my kid? What if Sadie had wandered off in that time and died somewhere in a ditch or walked into oncoming traffic? But, Haz, there's one thing in parenting that's a certainty - parenthood is really fucking unpredictable. Since the very first moment. You can't plan shit, you can't really control anything fully. You're doing amazing as a dad, Sadie and Noah love you and they're happy. They're better off with you here than away."

Harry chews at his lip for a while. "You think so?"

"I know so," Zayn says. "Noah cried for you every single night. It's like he just knew you were gone, even if I tried to lie to him and say that you were asleep. Sadie missed you terribly. I can't believe I'm letting the words come out of my mouth but you need to go with the flow. That's pretty much what we've always done and we have two happy, healthy kids. I told you, babe, I'd been wary at the beginning because I didn't know how Sadie and Noah would handle your memory loss and how you would handle being around them too. But when I saw you blowing Noah's nose, it was a done deal, I knew you could come home. You just need to go easy on yourself."

Harry sniffs, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. "So you're trying to tell me that it's completely okay Sadie broke her arm because of me? That you're not mad at me?"

"Of course I'm not mad," Zayn furrows his brows. "And well, I'd prefer if she hadn't broken her arm, as she certainly would too but she didn't break her arm because of you. Did you tell her to climb onto that armchair so she can jump down like Paul?"

Harry looks at Zayn for a long while. When it's certain Zayn is serious, Harry replies, "No."

"Okay, then the problem is solved," Zayn shrugs a little. "Sadie is a firecracker, she's just like you. No one can tame her. And unless you were like, smoking crack in the bathroom when it happened, you can't think you're an irresponsible parent."

Harry chuckles a little, shaking his head. "So if I were doing coke, it would've been fine?"

"You know what I meant," Zayn rolls his eyes. "Either way, you weren't doing drugs, you were making the kids snacks in the kitchen. You can't hold yourself accountable for Sadie's broken bone when you were just doing what they both asked for."

Harry sighs deeply. "It's just so fucking hard, Z. Nothing makes sense because one moment, my mindset's like, okay I'm a dad, I need to do the laundry today because Sadie got her favourite dress dirty and she's gonna start asking for it soon. Then an hour later I start thinking about going to a party on the weekend and sucking you off there when I get drunk."

"That day at the café," Zayn smiles a little. His arm snakes around Harry's waist slowly. "It was like we were dating again. You had that same wide-eyed look and I'd swear your eyes twinkled like in a fucking Disney film. Your breath hitched when I touched you. It really was just like our first weeks, but admittedly with fewer blowjobs. But that was very short-lived."

"Do you think our marriage will survive this mess?" Harry asks carefully. The uncertainty of this one aspect was driving Harry insane.

"It will," Zayn nods a little. "I know it will because it's still you and I still love you."

Harry nearly chokes. "You do?"

"Of course, I do," Zayn replies, a hesitant smile appearing on his lips. "I didn't fall out of love with you. I'm just being mindful of your recovery, I don't want you to get overwhelmed. You're stressed enough about the kids. Our marriage can weather this for a little while longer."

This nearly feels like a dream. It's music to Harry's ears. He shakes his head, "I don't want our marriage to be in a bloody siege anymore. If you think I can be around Sadie and Noah without hurting them, I won't leave. I won't because I don't want to leave you either. All I want is for things to be _normal_ again. It's so fucking hard but I've got a meeting with a therapist for myself next week. Hopefully, she'll help me with managing my anxiety about taking care of Sadie and Noah. Because I still feel like _shit_ about today. There is a good chance I'm going to feel like that for a while. Regarding us two, however, I just need you to treat me like your husband again. That's all I need. Because everything's here already," Harry places his hand over his heart. "Everything. I might not remember all the important moments we've had but I remember enough to know that I love you and I don't ever want to leave you again."

Zayn's lips quick up in a smile. He puts his hand on Harry's cheek and pulls him into a kiss. And this one's a proper one, not one of those chaste pecks that always leave Harry craving more and more. The kiss doesn't feel like a first one, mainly because it isn't, Harry just feared it would but their lips and tongues move delicately together. They aren't fumbling, trying to figure out what works because they've been doing this for seven years now. Harry's memory might be shoddy as fuck but he's not forgetting how to kiss his husband anytime soon.

"Everything's gonna be fine," Zayn whispers onto Harry's lips when they stop kissing, just before he pulls away. "You couldn't possibly do anything that'd ruin us. I know like, marriage vows are a bunch of outdated shit but I did mean it when I promised you forever."

Harry goes back for a short kiss. "Do you think I was such an... intuitive and chill parent because we had kids so young? Marriage is one thing. Now I just feel like I should be more responsible? It might be my 21-year-old self just coming through."

Zayn breathes out a laugh. "No, you were like that just because that's who you are. It'll come out of from behind that wall of anxiety soon, I'm sure. Like, last night during bath time, you started making up songs again? You're not in a bad place, Haz. Your recovery has been so much better than anything I or Dr Carrey could have imagined."

"Okay," Harry sighs. "Okay, I'll listen to medical professionals. I'm not on the same level as anti-vax parents."

Zayn laughs brightly. Harry can't stop his own smile at seeing his husband finally happy. "Thank god you're not," Zayn sighs a little. "Do you wanna watch a movie or something? To just relax because we're both gonna go insane soon. Sadie and Noah are asleep, there's a baby monitor, you don't have to worry."

"Yeah, sure," Harry chuckles. "Show me a great film from the past seven years. I've been meaning to catch up on pop culture a tiny bit. And please, I need some wine."

"You're in luck, we have a really well-stocked wine fridge," Zayn smiles. He stands up, offering Harry a hand. "Where's Paul?"

"Last I saw him, he was in a tree."

It's pretty cool how Paul comes back right after being called out for. And people say dogs are better. Cats know how to pee and poop on their own so Harry's certain about where his loyalties lay. Even if the smell of cat food often makes him gag.

xxx

It's strange how fast things go back to a relative normal. Harry has his family back. Even if he feels like he doesn't deserve it, they're always there. All of them. While still clearly holding back a little, Zayn doesn't treat Harry like his second cousin who came to stay at their house. Sadie isn't mad at Harry about the broken arm, even if Harry is mad at himself and every time he sees the hot pink cast, his heart breaks a little more. Noah has his moments where the terrible twos come in and make him spill glitter all over the carpet, but most of the time, he's perfect and cuddly and really happy his daddy is back home. 

The days move quickly. Harry gains back the knowledge about just how quickly hours fly by when you have two small children. Despite Harry's anxiety, Zayn goes back to work the following week. Harry's terrified of being alone with the kids but thankfully, they're at camp the entire time Zayn is at the university. He busies himself in the empty house by learning more and more about his patients, re-connecting with friends and just doing the everyday things that need to be done like cooking. It's not a horrible routine, Harry thinks, but there is also a therapist appointment looming in the distance, bright red on the kitten calendar in the study on and the plain one on the corkboard in the kitchen. But therapy is what Harry needs in order to be fully himself again, to be the dad their kids need.

As he spends more time at home, Harry starts to disconnect from the 21-year-old he thought he was when he woke up. The stray thoughts about his old problems, which mainly included only partying and gigs, slowly disappear one by one. His memories are coming in at a steady pace but Harry's well aware that he's never going to get them all back. Many important moments and details will be lost to him, always, unless someone mentions them or Harry encounters the right photo or the right bit of memorabilia.

The morning of Harry's first appointment with Dr Brown, he wakes up ridiculously early. Zayn is still in deep sleep, pressed against Harry's back. Harry grabs his phone from the bedside table, nearly groaning when he sees it's just before 6 AM. Waking nearly an hour and a half before their alarm, it's pretty much a nightmare.

Harry wastes his time on Instagram for a good while until he feels Zayn stirring awake and eventually pressing a few kisses onto Harry's shoulder.

"Morning," Harry rasps and turns still with Zayn's arm around his waist. "How's the most handsome man in the world this morning?"

"Most handsome?" Zayn snickers. "Have you seen yourself, babe? Don't go throwing that around. And I'm good. Can't be bad waking up with you here. How are _you?_ "

"Stressed as fuck," Harry sighs a little. "That's why I want to distract myself with this very, very fit man that happens to be in my bed."

Going back to being _husbands_ and not just awkward roommates who shared kids proved to be easier than Harry had expected, especially taking into account the initial rift between them. Harry now understands what Zayn meant by saying that they were too codependent on each other. Because they _are._ Once Harry got a taste of what it really is like kissing Zayn and getting to touch him and waking up next to him, he couldn't get enough. He honestly admires Zayn's restraint because if the roles were reversed, Harry probably would've suffered a mental breakdown and wouldn't let go off Zayn from the first second he saw him lying unconscious in the hospital. But, well, each to their own.

Zayn's face quickly loses the easy smile. "Are you sure you can do this?"

"Of course," Harry assures him, placing his hand on his cheek. "I have to, Z. I know that communication between the two of us is crucial too but I need a professional. Just for the peace of mind, I guess. And I do need to work through things. This whole thing was just... insane. If I don't make proper sense of it, I'll never be truly okay again."

"I know," Zayn nods a little, covering Harry's hand with his. "I trust you. You're incredibly strong, Haz. Don't be discouraged by _anything._ I would've broken down already if I were in your shoes."

"That's bollocks," Harry laughs softly. "I would've broken down if _I_ were in _your_ shoes."

"Let's just call it a tie," Zayn says and takes Harry's hand from his face, kissing the back of it. "Both situations were shitty as fuck."

"You're right," Harry chuckles. "Do you wanna have a date night sometime soon? We can leave the kids with my mum for a few hours and have a bit of fun. So all this doesn't drive us crazy."

"You sure?" Zayn frows, his hand rubbing circles on the small of Harry's back. "You've been scared of just leaving them _anywhere_. Even camp."

"I know but I'm trying not to become _that_ kind of a parent," Harry huffs. "I'm very slowly trying to go back to being that fun, carefree parent that I was before. A cool dad if you will. Besides, it's my mum."

"Okay," Zayn nods. "Also, you'll always be a cool dad. You can't lose that. As long as you're you."

"Stop flattering me, mister," Harry smirks and kisses Zayn quickly. "We don't have the time to spend the day in bed."

As much as Harry's dick wants to, they haven't had sex yet. A handjob here or there, one blowjob when Harry literally ambushed Zayn in the shower because he couldn't take it anymore, but no cock and arse action so far. Harry can't decide if the sexual tension that appeared once they started being _normal_ around each other is a negative or a plus. But there's been a silent agreement that when they fuck again, it's gonna be good and drawn-out and all-consuming and not a quickie in the morning before the kids wake up.

"We can take advantage of that date night you mentioned," Zayn mumbles into Harry's lips. "Dinner and good sex. Not the worst way to spend the evening."

"Don't tell Sadie but I do prefer a dinner and sex over watching Inside Out for the 85th time," Harry remarks. "I can't remember all the times I've watched it with her and those are the only memories I don't really need back. But my brain still knows I've seen that film one too many times for my own good. Not to mention all the other ones. I don't remember what Noah's first word was but I somehow remember all the words to How Far I'll Go. How is that fair?"

"You're right, it isn't," Zayn smiles a little. "Admittedly, though, Sadie will be very impressed with your lyrical knowledge."

Harry laughs. "When life gives you lemons, make a lemonade I guess."

"I forgot to tell you last night," Zayn changes the topic. "For the first time ever, a student full on propositioned me. Despite knowing very well I'm happily married."

"No way," Harry gasps theatrically, slapping Zayn's arm gently. "Tell me everything. This is fascinating, I've always wanted to fuck a lecturer. I never got the opportunity to."

"If you want the technicalities, you're fucking a lecturer every time we have sex."

Harry scoffs. "It's not the same. Wait, have we ever fucked in your office? Because if we have then it's redeemed."

"No, we haven't," Zayn frowns, trying not to laugh. "I'm not trying to get fired. This isn't a film. Anyway, do you want to know or not?"

"No, no, I've shut up now, tell me," Harry grins.

"Okay, so, I had office hours yesterday," Zayn starts. "One of the modules I'm doing is a summer-only programme for students from abroad. And this one girl, she's a brilliant student too, she used to come in, just asking about the uni and she wanted to discuss the books we were reading in class. She was there every single time I had office hours. All June, up until your accident. And yesterday, she was all like, oh I've missed seeing you around here, these office hours were great, that kinda stuff. And then, out of nowhere she just said, 'it would be amazing if we could do this with wine and fewer clothes and space between us'."

Harry starts laughing so loudly he fears he's woken up the kids. "No fucking way. She said that?"

"Not verbatim but yeah," Zayn laughs. "And then I just told her that I'm married and she said she knows and that she didn't mind. Well, I _do_ mind because I'm not keen on fucking a student."

"Jesus," Harry laughter dies out. "She has some balls on her. Zero shame. But on the other hand, I can't blame her. If you were my lecturer, I would've tried getting in your pants the first week."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," Zayn grins, his hand going lower and lower until he grabs a handful of Harry's arse. "Still, I wouldn't fuck you because that's misconduct."

"You're no fun," Harry says, his voice low. "Help me get off before we have to get up? If I come to Dr Brown's office this anxious and horny, she'll just chuck me into an asylum."

"Can't have you taken away from me again," Zayn mumbles, capturing Harry's lips in a deep kiss. Harry moans into it, trying to press his body as close to Zayn as he can. He's getting harder by the second, his morning semi going to full hardness. It's fascinating how effortless the physicality of their relationship has been. Harry doesn't know much about their sex life but his body unconsciously reacts in the right way, knows how to work with Zayn to get them off, to feel the years of love that have built a shelter around them when they're like this. When it's just them, kissing on the couch or cuddling in bed, the years missing and the trauma and the pain are nearly gone because the love is still there and nothing can make it vanish.

Harry's ready to shove his hand down Zayn's pants when a little voice he knows too well says, "Daddy, what are you and dad doing? Does it hurt?"

They probably got whiplash from how fast they pulled away from each other, panting and trying to cover with the thin summer blanket as well as they can.

"Sadie, how did you get here so quietly?" Zayn gets out, his breath short.

Sadie shrugs and climbs onto the bed, seating herself somewhere around their knees. "I opened the door. I woke up and I wanted cuddles."

"Oh, baby," Harry coos and despite being a huge cockblock, Sadie is still the cutest being in the universe. She may or may not share that spot with Noah too. "Come here, darling. Daddy will give you as many cuddles as you want."

Sadie gives him a wide grin, not hesitating for a second before she crawls over to Harry's open arms. She contently rests her head against Harry's chest, still a bit sleepy because she's not as chatty as usual. Her hot pink cast is digging into Harry's side but he's not gonna complain. She didn't have to have it in the first place, if he'd been more careful and she suffers through much more discomfort, having to wear it.

"Are you excited for camp today?" Zayn asks as he smooths down Sadie's bedhead.

"A little," Sadie replies. "We're playing football today and I don't like football. Can I stay home with daddy instead?"

"Sweetheart," Harry says miserably. "I wish you could but I have to see... a doctor today."

"Okay," Sadie says, her voice low. Harry tilts his head to see her face, only to have his heart broken a little bit by her pout.

"Sadie," Zayn says, his 'dad' voice on. "How about you go to camp for a little bit and then daddy will pick you up for lunch? How does that sound?" Harry shakes his head quickly, looking at Zayn in panic. Zayn pleads with his eyes, nodding his head gently at Sadie.

Harry sighs. He's fucking terrified of being alone with the kids after Sadie's injury. Especially since this means, he would have to drive them alone again. The car is still better than the tube because Harry's always had an irrational fear of one of the kids running onto the tracks and getting killed instantly by the train. And the bus is too inconvenient for the journey between the camp and their house.

But fucking hell, Sadie is sad and that is the last thing Harry wants. He's a dad, he's not a child.

"Yes, please!" Sadie says, perking up.

"So we'll have lunch together, huh?" Harry looks down at Sadie, smiling and trying to ignore his heart beating at an insane tempo. "What would you like, baby?"

Sadie hums, putting her finger on her chin. "I know!" she exclaims. "I want salmon."

Harry's eyebrows shoot up on his forehead. "Salmon?"

Sadie just nods, grinning. Zayn starts laughing. "Your daughter has a very refined taste and it's your doing, babe."

"Okay, then, salmon," Harry breathes out. "That means I'll have to go to the shops before picking you up."

"Can we go together?" Sadie cranes her head up at Harry. "I like the shops."

Harry sighs. Great, now, he'll have to deal with the fear of his kids being kidnapped in bloody Sainsburys. "Okay, strawberry."

"Yay!" Sadie cheers, nearly hitting Harry in the face with the cast. Honestly, it'd only be fitting.

Then there's the distinct sound of Noah crying coming from the neighbouring room. Harry sighs, shifting Sadie from his lap and kissing her forehead before he gets up and goes to Noah's room. Noah's standing in his crib, clutching the edge of it. When he spots Harry, he outstretches his arms to him immediately.

"I'm here, baby," Harry says in a gentle voice, holding Noah tightly against his chest. "Don't cry, Noah. It's a lovely morning, you don't have to cry." Harry walks with him to the window that's cracked open a little, the sound of birds coming in. "Look, baby, the sun's come up," Harry whispers to Noah, who turns his head and focuses where Harry's pointing. His dark curls are a mess and there are tears drying up on his face. "Can you hear the birds, Noah?" Noah nods softly. "They're singing a song for you, No. It's a new day, you don't have to cry. C'mon, let's go see dad and Sadie."

Harry walks back to the bedroom, finding Zayn and Sadie playing that ridiculous game where you try to kind of slap one's hands in a low-five way. It's very obvious Zayn is letting Sadie win. Since it's quite early still, they put on Oggy and the Cockroaches on Netflix for the kids. After an episode, it's time for all the routines and getting ready and making snacks. It takes a good while before Harry gets a relative moment of quiet with Zayn in the kitchen as the kids eat breakfast and they're drinking coffee at the kitchen island.

"Zayn, I don't know if I can be alone with them," Harry says quietly. "And fucking hell, going to the shops too? I can't handle that."

"Haz, don't worry," Zayn says softly, putting his hand on Harry's hip discreetly. "You were doing so fucking well before Sadie broke her arm. You can't let that just paralyze you. I know you're scared, and if it's too really much, just call me after your session or when you're at the shops or anytime and I'll come home, yeah?"

Harry breathes out. "I can't do that. I can't keep making you miss work because I'm a horrible parent."

"Babe, you went through a traumatic brain injury, fuck work," Zayn says. "You're more important to me. And you are _not_ a horrible parent. You're an incredible parent and an incredible husband. Tonight, no matter what happens, I'll make you come so hard you'll see stars because you're literally the best and strongest person I know and I'm proud of you." Harry thinks he already sees stars when Zayn says that and he's certainly struggling to breathe. "Okay, you two, it's breakfast, not Play-doh," Zayn says nonchalantly, walking to the kids' chairs as if he didn't just nearly make Harry have an aneurysm. "Are you done, babes?"

Another thing Harry's learned recently is that the breakfast of parents is more often than not kid leftovers with copious amounts of caffeine. It's not the worst usually, especially when they have pancakes but today, it's just a few grapes and a chunk of a cheese sandwich. Harry doesn't mind because his stomach is so tight with stress he couldn't eat more even if there was a continental breakfast from a five-star hotel in front of him.

Zayn drives first and they take the kids to camp. Harry's nervous, tinkering with the music the entire time, trying to find something that wouldn't heighten his anxiety. He settles on Joni Mitchell's Blue. At camp, they kiss the kids and tell the staff at the drop-off that Harry's gonna be picking both Sadie and Noah up early. Then they go to the uni and Harry's once again breathing like a senior citizen after eight flights of stairs when Zayn kisses the living daylights out of him, right there in the car in front of the main building on campus.

"What if your students saw us?" Harry says with his lips red from kissing and cheeks red from embarrassment.

"Better for us, maybe it'll scare off everyone else wanting to shag me," Zayn smirks and he's gone too.

Now Harry has a huge fucking challenge in front of him. Going to therapy for the first time ever. This time, he won't be the one sitting in the chair, asking questions, he'll have to answer them. And it's pretty fucking terrifying.

Harry's actually never been to the building where Dr Brows has her office, even though they work for the came clinic and are technically colleagues. He's never seen Dr Brown herself.

A good thing that Freddie told Harry when he called to arrange the appointment is that he can still use his employee card for the parking nearby. It's at least one good small thing.

The clinic isn't very crowded, considering it's quite early in the morning. At least based on Harry's own schedule, people prefer afternoon appointments, especially the older ones. Since he has quite a few students within his patients, it's easier for him to start in the morning and be able to get home early enough to spend time with his family.

Harry's called into the office at exactly 9 AM. Dr Brown is probably old enough to be his mum but she's got sleek blond hair down to her breasts and immaculate red, matte lipstick. She's tall and thin and a bit terrifying but absolutely gorgeous still, despite some lines on her face signifying her age.

"So, please call me Toni," she says once they're seated opposite each other in identical brown armchairs. The office is simple, with similar generic furniture as Harry's office has, at least that's what he's able to make out from his shoddy memory. "Have you had a good morning? Please, be completely honest. No detail you find compelled to divulge is irrelevant."

Harry's a bit startled by the question. "Um, I had a really good morning, actually. I did wake up like an hour and a half before the alarm but, um, my husband and I, we, um-"

"Had sex?" Toni offers. "We're both adults here, darling."

Harry goes red. "No," he clears his throat. "Um, we just kissed for a while. Then our daughter, Sadie came in and she, um, wanted cuddles? Our youngest cried for a bit but the morning was good overall. I can't complain."

Toni nods, writing something down in her notepad. Jesus fuck, is that how people feel in therapy? Harry has given much thought about how to make his patients feel the most comfortable and make himself as non-threatening and non-authoritative as he could but he's never imagined the whole thing feeling like this.

"I have the basic details about your situation that Freddie has given me," Toni says, her shart blue eyes meeting his again. "But let's go back to the beginning. You were in a car accident. You wake up in a hospital. How do you feel?"

Harry breathes in, looking up and away, trying to escape Toni's gaze. How _did_ he feel? "I, uh, I was a little in pain," Harry starts with the starkest memory. "Then I just wanted to see my mum. And my ex-boyfriend. My husband was there but I knew him only as kind of a mutual friend with my best friend? Not even that. I thought it was a prank at first but then I saw my tattoos and I knew all of it was real."

Toni nods shortly. "How did that make you feel? Not remembering your family?"

"Like shit," Harry chuckles sadly. "At first, I was still kind of in the mentality that I had back then when I was twenty-one. And it didn't go completely away until literally just like, these past few days. But then I started remembering some things and I just felt guilty. So much guilt I can't even describe it. I felt guilty because I couldn't be there for my husband, for my children. I wanted to go back but I couldn't."

"Why couldn't you?" Toni inquires. "If you missed them, why didn't you go back?"

"I didn't think I could take care of the kids," Harry replies. "Still don't think I can."

"Why?"

Harry sighs. "Because the first time I was alone with Sadie and Noah, Sadie broke her arm. I feel responsible for it, I _am_ responsible for it. I left them alone in the living room while I was in the kitchen. Sadie wanted to jump off an armchair the same way our cat did and she fell."

"Do you think that makes you a bad parent?"

Harry bites his lip. "Maybe? I don't know, I love my children so much. I know that I _was_ a good dad before my accident."

"Okay," Toni nods, jotting down something. "We'll get back to that, certainly. How about your marriage? How has that been?"

"Recently, really good," Harry smiles a little. "At first, Zayn was pretty distant but we've talked and he said he was just giving me space. He said he tried not to hinder my recovery by putting more pressure on me. I was focused more on the kids, still am, kind of. With Zayn, once we had a talk about it, getting back to where I believe we were, was quite simple. I know that I love him and I know that he loves me. I might not remember all of our anniversaries and inside jokes, but I don't feel as guilty about it as I do with our children. Zayn is an adult, he understands why I don't remember certain things. It doesn't mean that I love him any less."

"That's good, that's really, really good," Toni says while writing something down. "Most couples struggle so much after memory loss. It lasts years, easily. Has there been anything to suggest some detrimental cracks in your marriage? Current or potential future ones?"

"I mean, I don't think so?" Harry says. "We've been communicating really well and it's not like he'd go behind my back for sex or something. We are intimate."

"It doesn't have to be just that," Toni cocks her head to the side. "Sex doesn't always cause all the problems in a marriage. Your guilt regarding your children could be problematic in the future. He could view it as you not pulling your weight as a parent. Inequality in a relationship always leads to problems. How about your professional life?"

Harry tries to get his bearings. He wasn't mentally prepared for all this. "I, um, I want to go back to work next week, possibly," Harry replies. "I've been going through my notes constantly and I feel like I'm ready for it."

"That's great," Toni says, her face still stoic. "Talk me through how your recovery has been going. Chronologically, please. From the very first time you remembered something."

Harry tells her all that and by the time he's finished, taking quite long with the timeline because of Toni's questions, their hour is over and Harry finds himself walking out of the room again. At the door, Toni stops him with a hand on his elbow.

"I'm telling you this as a colleague, not your therapist," Toni says once Harry turns around to her. "I have one daughter. She's a couple of years younger than you. When she was eight, she broke both her legs at a waterslide. I went down with her at the same time, trying to keep her safe. We'll certainly talk more about all your problems with this, but just don't be scared shitless around your children because of one broken arm. They notice more than you think." With that, Harry's gently shoved out of the office and he's left gaping at the door. 

He collects himself quickly and heads out. It's a bit hard to stay calm as he drives to pick the kids up. But the meeting with Toni _was_ good. The anxiety didn't disappear but now Harry understands its irrationality even more. Still, his feelings are valid. Going through all this, it's not easy. He was faced with a completely different life when he woke up banged up in a hospital. Despite quite quickly realising he loves his children and husband, and regaining some of his memory, Harry tries to fit into the life he had and there are still bits and pieces hanging over the edge of the space he'd carved out for himself in the world.

Sadie and Noah are ecstatic to see Harry, already waiting for him outside with a caretaker. The caretaker tells Harry that he's come just in time because they were about to start playing football. Sadie frowns at the mere mention of it.

Before they head home, they stop at a Sainsburys not too far from their house. Even if they don't really need it, Harry takes out a wheelie basket and puts Noah in the seat there. He figures that in case Sadie starts to drift too far away from him in the shop, he can just put her there too and keep them close. But Sadie is apparently a perfect child because she stays at Harry's side the whole time, doesn't throw a fit or anything. Only at the till does Harry realise that Zayn really was right when he called him a pushover because he gives into anything the kids ask for, something he never used to do before apparently. Zayn said that he was the parent who sneaked the kids an extra cookie and an episode of a cartoon, not Harry. He was the one keeping some discipline in the house, all while loving his children fiercely, and still sometimes spoiling them rotten so his rules about sugar intake and screen time allowance went mostly unnoticed by the kids. So when Harry sees that they have more snacks than actual groceries being checked out, he makes a mental note to revise some of those notes about nutrition and whatnot that he compiled years ago.

Harry's quite proud of himself when he gets the kids occupied in the kitchen with colouring books, along with some fruit pouches and lemonade so he's free to make that salmon for Sadie while keeping the kids in sight at all times. Yes, he's paranoid and yes, he's working on it. Better safe than sorry.

Zayn comes back just as Harry's finishing up lunch. His face lights up with a smile like a sky of clouds going away when he notices that Harry isn't, in fact, having a breakdown after the session and handling the kids on his own.

"Hi, sweethearts," Zayn greets the kids, kissing the tops of their heads before walking to Harry, whispering a 'Hey, babe', before kissing him. "I see that everything's fine?"

"Mostly," Harry nods a little, looking over at Sadie and Noah who are still more than happy with their markers and coloured pencils. "The session was really good. I'm seeing Toni again next week. And these two are magic. We should pat ourselves on the back for raising them. I never realised just how many toddlers throw temper tantrums in grocery stores until I saw like four today, all while _our_ toddler was basically side-eyeing them."

Zayn laughs, watching Noah as he speaks. "Yeah, No-No isn't much for temper tantrums," he turns to Harry with a smile. "But he is very, very clingy. Now it's fine, I guess, he's only like that when he's sleepy but when he was younger, we could barely put him down."

"Still better than being pissy about every single little thing," Harry remarks. "How was uni? Anyone else trying to shag you?"

"It was okay. And no," Zayn scoffs. "I don't have people just throwing themselves at me every day."

"What am I then?" Harry teases. "A celery stalk?"

"You're tall and skinny," Zayn shrugs, an amused smirk lining his lips. "Might as well be. Just need to find the zip to your human meat suit to expose you."

"Ha ha, very funny," Harry says even though he does find this rather amusing. "Shall we have lunch outside? It's beautiful out, not too hot."

"Yeah, why not?"

Having lunch on the patio, it's just another one of those small, seemingly insignificant moments that make Harry appreciate being back with his family. These are the people he loves the most in the world, even if he feared he couldn't grow to love them again. Obstacles sure do come his way, and will continue to, but as long as Harry gets to have more and more of these moments, he will keep trying to find ways to overcome them.

He's maybe a smidge more appreciate when at night, once the kids are asleep and the bedroom door locked securely, Harry does indeed come so hard he sees stars. It just makes Harry more curious to fully discover the extent of the beauty of his and Zayn's sex life. If after two kids they're still like this, Harry has a lot more to get acquainted with again. Despite that, he's not complaining about that night's bit when Zayn fingered him while sucking his off.

xxx

Harry's office is a perfect time capsule. He did expect to be jumped by another glimpse into his life that his mind can't seem to explain to him. But the room is unnerving. There is a cup of an almost-finished coffee on the desk, papers strewn around in an organized mess. A few plants line the window sill, all of them looking alright. Someone must've watered them.

Harry remembers the room only vaguely. He's sure some memories will surface as he spends more time there. He picks up one of the many photo frames on his desk, smiling a little at a photo of his family, complete with Paul. It must be a recent one because Noah doesn't look too little. There is quite a few of them. Harry assumes they started appearing periodically as time went by. He recognizes a photo from his and Zayn's graduation dinner. Another one is of Sadie as a baby. More family photos. Some of just Noah and Sadie. There is even one of Paul straight up modelling like a trained cat, sitting on the fireplace in their living room with his tail twirled around his paws.

He has a small plastic noticeboard on his desk littered with post-it notes. Harry takes them all off one by one, reading each. He recognized his hand-writing but the tasks on them are not so familiar. _Get dewormer for Paul. Call Katie M. to reschedule. Get coloured card paper for Sadie. Get movie tickets for 28/7, any film. Reschedule Jack's appointment to next week, email him the date+time. Pick up mail downstairs._

Harry feels a tinge of anxiety at the back of his neck, spreading down and all over his body but he would be lying if he said he wasn't excited too. This is all he's wanted to do, pretty much since he was in his early teens. He does remember a bit about his job but this isn't your basic run of the mill routine for him anymore. Before his accident, his job wasn't the most exciting thing in his life. From what he's gathered so far, he is passionate about his job so it's not like he viewed this as a boring desk job that paid the bills but slowly killed his soul.

Harry's phone chimes in with a new text just as he's got his notebooks ready on a small side table next to the armchair he occupies during the sessions. It's from Zayn but he isn't the first one to text him today. He's got some texts from his mum and Gemma, Niall and a few friends too. His co-workers also sent a couple of well-wishes into the group chat they apparently have. Harry nearly teared up because he saw just how lucky he is to have so many incredible people around him. He's grateful for them, especially for the support they've given him since the accident because it hasn't been exactly easy breezy.

Zayn's text says, ' _Good luck today babes x. Are you sure you don't want me to pick you up after you're done?'_. Harry texts back, ' _Thank you love xxxx and no, I'll be fine :) Love you xx'_. They left together in the morning, dropped the kids off at camp and then Zayn dropped Harry off at the clinic. Since one of their cars had been totalled in the crash, they can't completely go back to the old routine. Before, Harry used to drop the kids off because he started work later than Zayn and then Zayn would pick Sadie and Noah up. It worked great, as far as Harry's been made aware.

Harry sits down in the armchair, taking a big breath and putting a notebook in his lap. He's not quite sure what to do but he'll get there eventually. He knows he will. His first client for today is a nineteen-year-old named Kaylee. Harry briefly looks over the notes he made about her situation, keeping the notebook at hand just in case. He'll try his hardest because these people need him, all at varying degrees. Still, they trust him and expect that he'll help them. That is precisely what Harry intends to do. He might not remember much but memory loss can't take one's empathy away.

It's not long before the door opens and a slight, brunette girl walks in. She gives Harry a weak smile as he greets her, quickly walking to the other armchair and sitting down. Kaylee drops her backpack on the ground and nervously looks around, rubbing her hands over her thighs.

"It's good to see you again, Kaylee," Harry says, trying to sound calm and collected and like he knows what the fuck to do. "I'm sorry about the large gap between our meetings. I believe you've been notified about what happened?" Kaylee nods swiftly, giving Harry a quick look before averting her gaze. "Have you used any other services that the clinic provides? Online support or a meeting with someone else?" Kayle shakes her head, now drumming her fingers against her thigh.

Okay, this approach isn't going to work.

Harry leans a bit forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees. "You don't have to be worried about anything, Kaylee, okay? You won't be required to repeat a single thing you've said to me before. I'm fully reacquainted with our conversations and I'm here to listen to anything else you want to tell me. Does that sound okay?"

Kaylee visibly relaxes, resting her back against the armchair for the first time since she sat down. "Okay."

"Great," Harry smiles a little, leaning back too. He knows she doesn't like it when he takes notes as they speak so he puts his notebook away. "How was the middle of summer for you?"

"It was good," Kaylee says in a small voice. "I think. I went to see my grandma in Blackpool."

"Oh, your grandma lives in Blackpool?" Harry tries to be cheery. "That's like having a holiday home there. I wish _my_ nan lived by the coast and not in the middle of nowhere somewhere in East Midlands," he chuckles. "Anyway, were you feeling alright? Has there been anything you really wanted to tell me?"

Kaylee bites her bottom lip. "I felt alright. I told mum I've been seeing you."

Right, the overtly-religious mum who doesn't like therapy and modern medicine. "How did she react? Does she know you're here today?"

Kaylee shakes her head. "She doesn't. But she wasn't too bad. She just kind of... sighed and told me to never see you again because I'll start thinking I'm an atheist and then I'll go to hell. My older sister Nancy told her off. She lives alone, had a good job so she just does whatever she wants."

Harry raises his brows in surprise. Not a good reaction but what the fuck? He clears his throat. "Okay, well, that's your mum's opinion. I haven't been on an anti-religion campaign recently, have I? I mean, my household doesn't practise any religion but I've got a couple of crosses on me so I can't possibly be doing the devil's bidding."

Kaylee chuckles a little. "No, you haven't. It's alright." Harry only then notices a necklace with a cross and an icon of some saint around Kaylee's neck. "Mum loves us despite that."

Harry sighs a little. "How about uni? Have you decided where to go?"

"Um, yes, I think," Kaylee nods. "I want to go with my insurance choice."

"That was the uni in Wales, right?" Harry frowns, almost reaching for his notebook before Kaylee nods, instantly happier. "Yes, I'm gonna be doing Biomedical Science."

Harry tries his best to hide the smile. He's supposed to be aloof. "You seem really happy about that."

"I am," Kaylee says, blushing. "I know my mum doesn't agree with this but I will have student loans and a maintenance loan. And my dad promised he'd cover the rest of my finances."

"Have you seen your dad recently?" Harry asks, remembering the bit about her parents' divorce. 

"Last week," Kaylee replies. "Along with his girlfriend. I don't really like her."

"Why is that?" Harry prods.

Kaylee looks down at her shoes. "She's just... being too nice to me and Nance. Like an evil stepmother from a fairytale."

"Why do you think it's just an act?" Harry cocks his head, hoping Kaylee will meet his eyes again. "Has she done anything that would prove that you can't trust her?"

"I don't know," Kaylee slowly lifts her head up. "She just... bought us ice cream? Nancy is 24."

"Well, what's wrong about ice cream?" Harry shrugs. "Everyone likes ice cream. It's summer."

"Yes, but-" Kaylee sighs deeply. "I don't know. She just kept asking about things. Where I was going to uni, how did Nancy like her job. Dad was just sitting there beaming at her."

Harry takes a deep breath, hoping he doesn't monumentally fuck this up. "Could this be just because you are not used to a mother figure being attentive past her own needs? Does your dad's girlfriend have kids?"

"She doesn't," Kaylee shakes her head, looking at Harry, a bit alarmed. "What did you mean by that first thing?"

"Well," Harry threads carefully. "You've told me before that you feel like as if your mum never really asked you how you were, how you were doing like, mentally. But then she'd come and throw all her emotional problems at you. Talk about disagreements with her brother. Maybe your dad's girlfriend is just a little awkward around you because she's never really been around children. She's trying to gain your trust the only way she can. Not all step-parents are evil, Kaylee. I had a wonderful step-dad. I kind of even liked him more than my own dad."

Kaylee chews at her bottom lip again. "You think?"

"Yes," Harry replies easily. "But I haven't met either of them. I'm just going by from your emotions and feelings, from what you've told me."

"Okay," Kaylee nods. "I mean, I've met her only just like three times."

"Give her a chance," Harry says. "But protect yourself as well. Don't open yourself up to her if you don't feel comfortable doing so. At the same time, don't shut yourself off completely. Listen to yourself. I know it sounds hard when I say it like that, but you are in control of this relationship. You don't have to be best friends."

Kaylee nods. She takes a pause before speaking again, "I had that nightmare again."

Harry freezes for a moment before he remembers his notes. Kaylee came to him almost two years ago after she had an abortion. She was seventeen and nothing horrible lead to it. She had a boyfriend who was kind and even despite using protecting, this unfortunately happened. Kaylee's sister acted quickly and took her to get an abortion and ever since, Kaylee had been periodically having nightmares about being slathered in blood and her mother calling her a baby-killer, despite the fact that her mother never knew. It all came from her religious background but she's made huge progress since.

Kaylee nearly ran out of his office after she had overheard Harry on the phone just before their session and learned that he had a three-month-old baby at home. She later admitted she had feared he would too judge her for it.

"When exactly?" Harry asks.

"About two weeks ago," Kaylee replies. "I didn't cry this time."

"I'm very glad to hear that," Harry says softly. "I probably say this every time, but it's just assurance. You know that you're not guilty? You didn't kill anyone, Kaylee. It's your own body and _you_ and only you decide what to do with it."

"I know," Kaylee nods. "I'm just- I'm still scared my mum will find one day and never speak to me again. She would never forgive me. Never."

"She won't find out," Harry tries to reassure her. "Only you and Nancy knew, correct?" Kaylee nods. "Do you think Nancy would betray you?" She shakes her head. "Then you have nothing to worry about. You're safe, Kaylee. Focus on how far you've come since then. Focus on all the great people in your life that would never judge for your decisions."

The rest of the session with Kaylee is mostly talking about preparing for uni, for living alone for the first time and having the freedom she never had at home. She leaves less nervous than she came in and tells Harry that she's glad he's back and he's okay.

When Harry takes notes about the session afterwards, he is pretty pleased with how the day is going. He's ready to take back another part of his life that was snatched away from him.

Harry returns home just after 4:30 PM, taking the tube alone as if he were in uni again. It's a nice blast from the past but now he finds himself thinking about hugging his kids, playing with them and snogging the living daylights out of his husband, instead of wondering where he's gonna drink that weekend. He loves his life, he does. He might have to see a therapist for himself too, in order to accept the astronomical disturbance in his life in the form of retrograde amnesia and to convince his thick brain that he is, in fact, a capable father and husband, but that doesn't take away from anything.

Sadie and Noah run towards him as soon as he opens the door, shouting about cuddles and kisses and camp stories. He cuddles them properly, kisses them maybe a hundred times and then also kisses his very, very handsome husband.

They don't have time for each other because the kids want to play, then they need dinner, then it's bedtime but once Sadie and Noah finally soundly asleep, Harry and Zayn enjoy a bit of peace and quiet in the conservatory with all the doors and windows open, a bottle of wine and a record played crooning some tunes.

"How was your second first day at work?" Zayn asks, the hand that isn't holding a wine glass in Harry's hair.

"Really good," Harry smiles. "I had sessions with five people, all of them went well. I had to seek the broad knowledge of my revision notebook only once. I kind of loved it, actually."

"I'm really glad you're back there," Zayn says and kisses Harry's temple. "Your job makes you really happy, even if it could be hard too. Just helping people like that, you're literally glowing. Even if you used to let it really get to you sometimes and you were stressed and sometimes even hopeless, you pushed through. It's one of my favourite things about you, your passion for this."

Harry cranes his head and leaves a fleeting kiss on Zayn's lips. "I love you. I really, really do. I couldn't get here without you. I'm not even kidding."

"Oh, that was all just my selfishness," Zayn jokes. "I wanted my sexy husband back."

"Sure you did," Harry chuckles. "Oh! Something got me thinking earlier today."

"What?"

"During the lunch break, a co-worker came in to see everyone, she's on maternity leave and she brought her baby," Harry says. "Super cute baby, that little one. But I was just wondering, before all this mess happened, how many kids did we want? Are Sadie and Noah it?"

"We never really said exactly how many we want," Zayn shrugs. "But I am under the impression that you wanted more."

Harry hums. That'll have to be revisited later when he feels like he can handle the two kids they already have. "You know that date night I mentioned?"

"Yeah?"

"How does Saturday sound?" Harry grins a little. "I have a pretty good idea."

"Of course you do," Zayn chuckles. "Where do you wanna go?"

"That's a secret," Harry winks. "You'll have to wait and see."

xxx

They don't go anywhere on Saturday. Harry comes up with a better plan. On Friday as he leaves the clinic, he stops by for some groceries and wine that are very much not included on their normal shopping list. Then around 4 PM on Saturday, he gently kicks Zayn out with the kids and a box of pralines for Anne, who will watch Sadie and Noah for the night, leaving the house empty for the grown-ups to do whatever the fuck they like.

Harry felt like having a romantic dinner at home is better than going out somewhere to a posh restaurant and basically spending good two hours of their evening in the car or somewhere on public transport. He has grown to love their house again, this place in the world carved out just for them that exudes warmth and love. It's only fitting their first date night post-accident is there. They've grown so much as individuals and a family in this house, made a home out of it and it's just a special place to them. Of course, they are most likely going to move in the next few years into a bigger place as their family expands but this will always be their first house.

So Harry cooks a fancier meal than normal, forages the house for as many candles as he can find and sets a pretty romantic scene outside on their patio. Paul is very interested in the changes to his preferred environment outside and sniffs nearly every candle. Harry laughs at the cat, who he most likely won't be able to keep away so it'll probably be a romantic dinner for three. Unless he wants Paul's meows to soundtrack the night instead of the record player. Just as their children, Paul can be pretty clingy when it tickles his fancy. Especially when human food is involved.

Everything's ready by 6:30, so Harry just covers the food so it doesn't get cold (and Paul doesn't get his paws into it) and hops in the shower. One benefit of the short hair he's sporting now it's that it requires significantly less time for drying than his long locks. Still, he kind of misses the length. He might grow it out, just to give it a shot again. He started to like his new wardrobe, he might feel the same about the hair.

Harry's dressed and honestly, a little bit nervous when Zayn comes in at exactly 7 PM (Harry might've threatened him with setting a hungry Paul loose on his if he came back even a minute earlier). And fuck, it feels a bit too much like a first date. They've been married for five bloody years, Harry better get his shit together.

"Why's everything so dark?" is the first thing Zayn says when he comes in, Harry still coming down the stairs. "Have you joined a coven when I wasn't looking? I don't think it's full moon."

"Oh, shush," Harry scoffs and comes to Zayn, wrapping his arms around his neck. "I'm trying to be romantic, alright? Hi."

"Hey," Zayn smiles a little and kisses Harry quickly. "What am I in for tonight?"

"A lovely dinner cooked by yours truly," Harry grins. "And some surprises."

A crash comes in from the kitchen. Zayn's eyes go wide in amusement. "Is that one of them?"

"No, I think I forgot to close the dishwasher," Harry sighs, extracting himself from Zayn and walking to the kitchen. And just as he thought, Paul's meows are distinctly coming out of the dishwasher. After Harry pulls him out and shuts the door, he tells Zayn to go outside and grab the wine from the counter. Harry takes out their plates ready with the food from the oven, where they were kept for warmth and general safekeeping because it is _not_ Paul's dinner.

"What made you think of this?" Zayn asks as he pours wine into their glasses, the food already in front of them. The only light illuminating the scene is coming from the candles and a string of lightbulbs that is a permanent fixture in the garden, helped out by the darkening sunset. All in all, Harry thinks he did pretty good.

"I dunno," Harry shrugs. "I just wanted us to spend time together, you and me and no one else. A restaurant or someplace like that isn't exactly it, yeah? And..." Harry breathes in deeply, breaking eye contact for a beat. "I wanted to do something nice for you. As a thank you for being there for me and helping me get through everything after the accident."

"Babe," Zayn smiles soppily and reaches over to grab Harry's hand in his. "There's no need for that. You're my husband, I wouldn't abandon you because of this. Besides, you have done so much of all this yourself."

"I know, but still," Harry insists. "The first few days, I was seriously thinking about not going back home. Sure, I felt like shit because of how sad Sadie looked in the hospital and also because I knew there was Noah as well, who missed me too. I know it's horrible but I considered leaving this life behind and moving onto something else. If it weren't for you, I don't think we'd be here right now. I'm really, really grateful that you took me back as I am, even though I wasn't quite myself, wasn't quite the man you remembered and loved."

"I'd always take you back, no matter what, Harry," Zayn says. His thumb is drawing circles on the back of Harry's hand and Harry's heart is fluttering as if he was a teenager. "I fell in love with you when you were twenty-one. I'm sorry I was distant but it wasn't because of the lack of love I had for you, it was only to make your recovery as smooth as possible. I didn't want to put you into an even more stressful situation. The long-term results were what was important to me. I didn't want you back for a week, I wanted you back forever."

That last sentence, those simple words, nearly make Harry fly off his chair and run around the garden like a madman because fuck if he isn't head over heels in love. "You're honestly perfect, Zayn," Harry beams at him. "Not even joking."

"There's plenty about me that's far from perfect," Zayn chuckles. There's been a silent agreement that it's about time they started eating their food because it's actively getting colder and nastier right in front of them. "But let's keep it poetic and say that we're perfect for each other."

Harry rolls his eyes theatrically. "For goodness' sake, I forgot I was married to an English professor and a writer."

"Alright, touché, but I don't write poetry," Zayn laughs.

"Not even for me?"

"Especially not for you, you're a menace."

Once they're done with dinner, it's quite dark and a bit colder. And that's when Harry pulls out his first surprise.

"Where did you find this?" Zayn laughs as Harry presents him with a blunt instead of dessert. "I didn't think we had any left."

"I believe it's from our anniversary trip," Harry replies and grabs a long lighter from the window sill outside that he used for the candles. "I was going through the bathroom drawers the other day and found it. I hope the weed's not stale. Wait, _can_ it go stale?"

"I think so," Zayn says. "But we don't keep it around for too long so it can't be _that_ old. In a house with two little kids who are way too curious for their own good, it's better to get rid of it quickly."

"You do the honours," Harry passes the long lighter over to Zayn, who gives him a weird look upon seeing it. Harry shrugs unapologetically. 

They've moved to the ratan sofa that's on the patio by the time they actually start smoking. Harry has a moment of regret because this only makes him think about uni more but whatever, uni is well in the past. Now he's lighting up not with his pissed friends but with his husband.

"Why did you marry me?" Harry asks after some time of chitchat and reminiscing and joking around. The weed's started to hit him and he's genuinely curious. Enough of his brain-to-mouth filter has been removed.

"What?" Zayn laughs around the smoke, coughing a little. "Why did I marry you?"

"Yeah," Harry shrugs, twisting on the sofa so he can lean one arm on the back of it. "Why'd you marry me? We were young as hell. Still in uni. We hadn't been together for a single year."

"God, Haz," Zayn chuckles, his shoulders sagging. "I don't know, I loved you. At first, I thought you were joking but... I just knew I wanted you. So I said fuck it and married you. Why care about like, societal norms, right? We were together and we were happy. What more could you need?"

Harry hums, taking the blunt from Zayn and smoking the last bit before throwing it on the floor and squashing it. "Did we ever have any doubts about it?"

"I don't think you did," Zayn says, sighing. "But for a moment, I did. Not like, doubting my love for you. I didn't even doubt your feelings, I was just worried that you wanted to go so fast to throw it in Xander's face. That you were doing _so good_ without him that you got married within a year of you two breaking up."

"No," Harry frowns, almost flinching. "I would _never_ do that. I remember enough to know that I didn't even give him a spare thought after you and I started properly dating. You were like, the fucking centre of my universe. How could you think that?"

Zayn shrugs. "Dunno, just paranoia. I never told you and I quickly realised I never should've doubted you."

"Damn right you shouldn't have," Harry scoffs but there is no heat behind it. He scoots closer to Zayn on the sofa, then he leans his head on Zayn's shoulder and throws an arm around his middle.

Zayn's doesn't wait and wraps an arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him closer. "You know what?"

"What?" Harry mumbles, nuzzling his face a little into Zayn's neck.

"I missed you so much while you were gone," Zayn reveals, his voice gentle. His fingers are carding through Harry's hair slowly. "Even when you were already home, I just felt miles and miles away from you. It's like you were back but weren't at the same time because I was just honestly scared about unintentionally hurting you by trying to pull you back into our old life."

Harry stops and pulls away a little so he can see Zayn's face. He puts a hand on his cheek, looking at him intently. "You'll never have to miss me again," Harry says with great determination because he fucking means it. "Never. I'm never leaving. I'm here for good. I love you _so much,_ I love our children so much, even our bloody cat. And do _you_ wanna know something?"

"Yeah?" Zayn says quietly, his hand now tight around Harry's waist.

"I started missing you too," Harry smiles a little. "Really as soon as I remembered how we had begun dating. That was like game over, case closed, I needed you back. But I was scared too. Still am. It all won't go away easily but... I'm working on it."

"We'll be fine in the end," Zayn says and kisses Harry's cheekbone. "We always are."

"I think it's time for the second surprise," Harry whispers into Zayn's lips. "But we need to go upstairs first."

"Is it what I think it is?"

Harry just winks at him.

After they've blown out the candles, found and caught Paul in the garden, they retire upstairs into their bedroom at last. It feels almost illicit even though they've done this hundreds of times. The first night they kissed they also had sex but in this situation, at least to Harry, it almost feels brand new. Obviously, they've done some stuff in the meantime but they haven't fucked yet. The finale of their sex life revival deserves more than a quickie. Tonight they don't have to be quiet in fear of waking the kids, they don't have to hurry up because there's breakfast to be made, plush toys tea parties to be attended and two lovely children requiring their attention. Tonight is just for them and no one else.

They don't wait around once they're in the bedroom and start kissing right away. Even the simple act of a kiss feels better when they're not inhibited by anything. Harry might just have butterflies as if they were kissing for the first time.

"Can I?" Zayn mumbles into Harry's lips as his hands go to the buttons of Harry's shirt.

Harry nearly starts nodding like those bobble-head figurines. "Please."

The removal of Harry's shirt sets off an avalanche and it doesn't take long until they're naked, skin pressed on skin as they kiss in front of the bed. They're both nearly painfully hard just from the anticipation and unfiltered desire.

"Get on the bed," Harry tells Zayn, giving him one last kiss before walking to his bedside table and pulling out a bottle of lube.

"No handcuffs?" Zayn chuckles from his perch on the bed, one leg straight and the other bent at the knee. He's so fucking hot Harry's horny brain can't comprehend how they kept themselves from fucking all these weeks.

"Not tonight no," Harry smiles a little as he straddles him. "Wanna feel you everywhere."

"You want me to prep you?" Zayn asks and the trust and the mundanity in their love nearly make Harry's heart burst. He puts his hands on Harry's hips, a warm familiar weight that Harry welcomes with open arms.

"No," Harry shakes his head quickly and leaves a kiss on Zayn's cheekbone. "Took care of that before you came back."

"You sneaky little slag," Zayn chuckles and starts marking up Harry's neck. "You couldn't wait for us to finally fuck, huh?"

"Maybe so," Harry says around a moan, Zayn's lips on his neck. "Maybe I'm just time-efficient."

"Sure you are," Zayn laughs and the vibrations from it travel all around Harry's body, straight to his cock. "You wanna ride me?"

Harry nods, bumping his nose against Zayn's in an Eskimo kiss. "Told you I wanted to do something nice for you."

"I love you," Zayn says easily, kissing Harry. "Really, really love you a lot."

"Love you more," Harry smiles and runs his fingers through Zayn's messy hair. "It's impossible to put into words, to be honest."

"We have other ways to say it, I guess," Zayn drawls as he starts kissing his way up Harry's jawline. "This right here is a good one."

Harry hums in agreement, finally opening up the lube. It's been a couple of hours so he slicks up his fingers and pushes two inside of himself, all while Zayn is kissing his neck, his jaw, his collarbones, his chest. Harry feels showered in love and only now does he truly see the difference between marital sex and just random fucking, or even sex in a relationship that he had before. The level of trust and ease that's between the two of them takes years to cultivate, and it can't come to be without love and affection. They're still in love, even after years of marriage. Harry would probably argue that they love each other even more than before. They share a life now, complete with two beautiful children they adore, that is more than youthful infatuation and passion and attraction. 

"You're so hot," Zayn murmurs, his eyes dark. "So fucking hot. Can't believe you're mine."

"Thanks, you're not too bad yourself," Harry teases. "By the way, any idea how I got _this_ into shape? Because I've no fucking clue."

"You're a bit of a fitness freak but it doesn't make me love you any less," Zayn quips.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. He quickly slicks Zayn up and starts to sit down on his cock without any warning. A moan escapes his lips as he throws his head back, even though he's barely got the tip in. It feels _so fucking good_ , especially after quite a while. Harry doesn't mind the tingle of initial pain, on the contrary, he lives for it. He's always liked getting a bit roughed up in bed from time to time, just as much he likes doing it slow and gentle, with bodies pressed together and gentle kisses. Zayn is gripping his hips hard enough to probably leave marks and Harry already knows he's gonna enjoy seeing them in the mirror next morning and will find himself pressing his fingers into them throughout the day as a remembrance.

"Fuck, you're amazing," Zayn moans out when Harry gets fully seated on his cock as they're skin on skin. "So tight, babe."

"Yeah," is all Harry manages to get out before he captures Zayn's lips in a kiss again. He starts moving slowly, more of a rocking of his hips than anything else. Without explicit instructions, they somehow end up wrapped around each other, their chests pressed together, Harry's arms around Zayn's neck while he has Zayn's arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

The window is cracked open, letting in the colder night air but their skin is still shiny with perspiration. Harry's overcome with the passion, with the exquisite fucking feeling and even the slight burning of the muscles in his thighs can't stop him. They barely even have the time to catch their breath properly because they can't quit kissing. It seems like it would be the most difficult thing in the universe right now.

"I love you," Harry breathes out, his chest lifting heavily with the conservative amount of oxygen he's been giving his lungs. He leans his forehead against Zayn's, both of them breathing heavily and the climax is so close, so fucking close they can taste it.

"Love you," Zayn says quietly and places a quick kiss on the corner of Harry's lip. They stay like that, heads pressed together, their breathing heavy, until they both come within moments of each other. Harry comes first, untouched, spilling between them and promptly getting a hand around himself as Zayn fucks him through the orgasm, coming moments later.

They don't move for a good while, attempting to calm down their breathing and re-oxygenate their lungs properly. Only once it starts to get uncomfortable does Harry climb off of Zayn and pulls them both down onto one pillow, body pressed to body.

"That was fucking brilliant," Harry breathes out a laugh. "Fuck. You should've told me the sex was this good, I would've been home right away." Harry winces when he sees Zayn's slight frown. "Too early for that kind of jokes?"

Zayn shakes his head into the pillow. "I'm just happy to have you back."

"Me too," Harry smiles and kisses Zayn quickly. "Tonight was just so good."

"Yeah, it was," Zayn agrees, his hand moving from stroking Harry's back to grabbing his arse and he impertinently gets a finger or two on Harry's rim, experimentally trying the slickness of his own come that has now started leaking out.

"Stop that before I get hard again," Harry giggles and slaps his hand away. "Don't let this whole situation fool you. 21-year-old me and 28-year-old me have very different stamina. And I'm fully on board with my 28-year-old self now, mister."

"You just think that, babe," Zayn chuckles. "I'll change your mind some other time."

"Do I need to put that in my calendar?"

"Yeah, probably."

xxx

On September 5th, Harry's woken up by lots of commotion and excited screeching. He's barely opened his eyes when he feels a weight on his chest and two small hands pulling at his face.

"Daddy, it's the first day of school!" Sadie screams cheerfully and then she's gone, letting Harry breathe again as she does the very same thing to Zayn on the other side of the bed.

"Oh God," Harry sighs and rubs his eyes. Sadie starts jumping on the bed as Harry looks at the clock on the bedside table, seeing that it's only after six. "Baby," Harry says, sitting up and pulling Sadie into his lap. She got her cast taken off just three days ago, he doesn't want another broken bone to come out of her jumping. "Why are you up so early, strawberry? You need your sleep, Sadie, so you can grow big and strong. Dad and I do too."

"I know," Sadie pouts, flailing her arms dramatically. "But you said last night that the sooner the morning is here the sooner I will go to school!"

"Sadie-bear, it doesn't open sooner," Zayn says, sitting up too as he starts pulling Sadie's toes. She giggles despite her obvious want to protest. "The school starts at nine no matter when you wake up, honey."

"But that's..." Sadie puts a finger on her lip, trying to count in her head. "Soon!" she settles on saying because she most likely doesn't know what time it is now. "We have to start getting ready!"

Harry laughs and kisses her head. "Don't worry, Sadie, we have more than enough time."

"I don't want to be late," Sadie's shoulders slump as she looks up at Harry.

"You will not be late," Harry says. "That's a promise. Do you want to lay down for a bit?"

Sadie shakes her head. "No way, daddy, I have to go get ready." And with that, she's scurrying off the bed and running back into her room, her nightgown that had rid up her body falling further down with each step.

Harry drops back into the pillows with a huff. "If she starts waking us up like this every morning because of school, I'm gonna start locking the door."

"You'd never do that to her," Zayn grins at him, laying on his side by his side.

Harry sighs, turning his head. "You're right. I'm so happy she's excited about it and not terrified. She's such a smart girl. I love her a lot."

"I know," Zayn says and bends down to kiss Harry's forehead. "I do too."

"Our baby girl is starting primary today," Harry laments. "Can you believe that?"

"I can," Zayn chuckles. "I never thought all these years would go by so fast."

Harry sighs, turning his head away. For him, those years are mostly gone. He's regained some memories back, enough to piece together a cohesive picture of his life but he knows he's never getting all of them back. With certain photos and other little things, he does recall something new still from time to time but more the days pass since his accident, the less old/new memories reappear. He's started to accept it, at least to an extent. What else is there to do?

Right now, it's enough for Harry that he has bits and pieces from all the important milestones that shape a child's life. He remembers things from when Sadie and Noah were babies, he remembers a few scattered moments afterwards, he knows a thing or two about their birthdays, about when they started talking. It's not everything, but it's enough for now.

"What's wrong, babe?"

Harry turns his head again, giving Zayn a weak smile. "Nothing. Just feeling a bit emotional about Sadie being so big already. But I promised myself I won't cry when we drop her off."

"Who are you kidding, Haz?" Zayn laughs and pulls Harry closer. "You know we're both gonna bawl like babies."

"Perhaps," Harry grins. "I know Sadie isn't going to cry _for sure_. She's acting like she's going to uni and not primary. I don't like this, can't she stay little forever?"

"I'm afraid that's not how it works," Zayn smiles a little. "We still have Noah, though. He'll be more than happy to cling to us all day."

"You're right," Harry agrees, sighing. "Do you think he'll be like Sadie once he's older? Independent, just ready to take over the world."

"No idea," Zayn shakes his head a little. "He's very social with other kids so only time will tell."

Harry groans. "I do not like this. Someone should've warned me about the pain of kids growing up before we had them."

"Stop being dramatic, our eldest isn't even five yet," Zayn laughs. "You wanna try and nap until our alarms go off?"

Harry sighs. "I think it's impossible."

And it sure is because, within minutes, Harry finds himself in Sadie's room, sitting on the carpet as she goes around the room and gets her bookbag ready. She gives Harry extensive commentary on the whole ordeal and Harry then can't stop himself, but pull her into his lap and cuddle her until she slinks out of his grasp like a cat. His heart nearly shatters when his thoughts dip into the world of Sadie being even older. Nope, that's going to be a restricted section from now on. He'll deal with it as it comes.

They have to leave early for the school no matter what because Sadie gets herself ready and is standing around with her bag, telling everyone to hurry up. Noah gets a bit fussy because he was woken up sooner but they don't forget the kids' lunches, or their own lunches so that's all they can ask for. Harry even remembers to take a polaroid and another million photos of Sadie in her uniform on her first day so the morning is a success.

In the car, Sadie goes on and on about her subjects, about how she's just so excited to learn. Noah watches her, utterly fascinated and repeats some words after her. Sadie then turns her attention from her parents to her baby brother and starts telling him about how cool school is going to be for him. Harry hopes it's going to stay like this for a long time and they won't get to a point where Sadie will be helping Noah out with getting alcohol or something when they're teenagers. It's naive to think they're not gonna rebel at some point in their lives but right now, ignorance is the most blissful thing Harry can think of.

Noah is dropped off first at the nursery that is in the came complex as Sadie's school. He does very good with it and only demands a few more kisses before he joins the teacher and the rest of the kids.

The closer they get to Sadie's teacher and her class in the courtyard, the more choked up Harry's throat gets. Sadie is their baby and there she is, starting primary already. She skips joyfully between Harry and Zayn, holding their hands.

"There is Miss Perkins!" Sadie calls out and starts to run towards the teacher before they pull her back. She's met her at the orientation last week that was a huge success for her. Sadie was all wide-eyed and kept getting excited about one thing after another while Harry and Zayn started dreading parent-teacher conferences and PTA and other school events. Sadie was in paradise already while they got a taste of actual hell. A brood of stay-at-home parents gave them a couple of dirty looks at a little section where parents were supposed to get to know each other the moment they had said they're both working full-time and enjoy their careers.

"Sadie, calm down, baby," Harry says quietly enough. "Don't go running off, we have to say goodbye to you."

"Okay, daddy," Sadie sighs.

She listens and when they're close enough to the teacher, Harry lifts her up along with the bookbag she refused to let them carry for her and hugs her as tight as possible. "You know that I love you so, so, so much, Sadie, right?"

"Of course, daddy," Sadie says, her voice small. She hugs Harry around the neck and gives him a wet kiss on the cheek. "I love you too."

"You're a big girl now," Harry tells her seriously, trying not to get choked up already. "You're gonna learn sooo many things and have so many new friends. And you're gonna listen to Miss Perkins and all the other teachers, aren't you?"

"I will, daddy," Sadie nods. "I promise."

"Good," Harry nods shortly. "Now say goodbye to dad and when we pick you up after school, we'll have a surprise for you."

Harry discreetly wipes down a tear that got out as she watches Zayn with Sadie. His heart swells with love and pride too, because he has such an amazing family it still feels like a dream. Sometimes when his life seems too perfect, like today or when the kids eat all their vegetables and no one is fussy all day, Harry wonders if all this is just an elaborate dream and he's somewhere in a coma. Of course, it's ridiculous but he finds it hard to believe his luck.

Sadie flashes them one more smile and a wave before she leaves, skipping over to her teacher and then promptly chatting with the friends she's already managed to make at orientation. Harry and Zayn hang around for a bit, watching Sadie socialize, and they're certainly not the only parents to do so. But they don't chat with the other parents, they just stand there, arms wrapped around each other as they watch their oldest kid start a new, and to her, very exciting chapter of her life. Sadie seems happy, laughing away and still as happy as early in the morning when she woke them up. While it is a bit heart-wrenching for them as parents, they know they would always take Sadie being this happy over her crying and not wanting to go to school.

Harry's heart is heavy once they're back in the car, on their way to a different part of the city because the world didn't stop turning just because their daughter had her first day of school.

"You know what?" Harry sniffs discreetly, wiping away the few tears he allowed to come out. "I've been thinking these past few days ago, you know, how we're all, I can't believe she's not a baby anymore. But I don't- the whole sequence of time is really warped for me and I'm never gonna get all my memories back so I can see all this like that, like I would've if I hadn't been in that fucking accident."

"Haz," Zayn says softly, his hand promptly moving to Harry's knee. "I'm so sorry."

"No, it's not your fault," Harry shakes his head and grabs Zayn's hand in his. "It's no one fault and at the same time, no one can change it. It's just the way it is. So like, today, Sadie had her first day of school. And that's a new memory. And I'm just sick of chasing the past. I do remember things, not all of it but it's enough. It's enough because I love you, I love our children. And if nothing else goes to shit, we're gonna make new memories, have new experiences, just like today. Maybe one day randomly when I'm seventy I'll suddenly get all my memories back because our brains are fucked up little things. But as of today, I know I can't just regain all the memory I've lost so fuck it, I'm just gonna make new memories with all of you. I'll start going out with my friends even more, because I've seen just a couple of people since the accident. You and I are gonna have some great time. And every day with the kids is just a great memory on its own. So yeah. That's what I've decided to do."

Zayn looks at Harry quickly before turning his sight at the road again, a loving smile on his lips. "That's really good, babe," he says. "You can't keep punishing yourself for that and torturing yourself. Trust me, the kids, me, your mum, Niall and all your friends, we don't care that you forgot things. Because it's still you, Haz, and we're lucky to have you to matter what."

"I know," Harry says, nodding. "I've realized that because like, I have amazing people all around me and why dwell on the past when I have an amazing future in front of me?"

"Exactly," Zayn agrees. "As long as you're happy, that's all I care about, baby."

"With you, I'll always be happy," Harry says. "And yes, it's cheesy but it's true."

"We can only be cheesy, love," Zayn laughs quickly. "By the way, I've made the reservation for the pizza place Sadie loves at 3:30, hope it isn't too early."

"No, that's just right," Harry says. "I've moved my schedule around, so before that, I'll go and pick up some books and toys for Sadie, and I'll grab something for Noah too so he doesn't get jealous and they have a row."

"Also, Paul has a vet appointment on Wednesday."

"He _hates_ the vet! No way I'm taking him."

"I don't wanna do it either! It's your turn too."

"Rock, paper, scissors?"

"Fine, but only because I love you."

"Aw, I love you too!"

Their shit-eating grins are enough to describe their happiness. Harry didn't believe he'd ever have this life back. He didn't think he would be a good enough husband and a dad for this. In the very beginning of the aftermath of the crash, he didn't think he'd have the guts to even want to come back at all. But he thinks it'll be alright. It'll be fine. After all, it always is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so so much for reading this story :) please leave some feedback if you enjoyed reading this, even a single kudos means a lot to me :)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you all SO MUCH for reading, please do leave some feedback, it would mean a lot to me. and don't forget to tune in for the second chapter!


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